


It's Not Living (If It's Not With You)

by LilacBonbon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Although Akaashi centric, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Every Vb team is basically a model company, First Time, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I have big plans for this fic, I promise, Internalized Homophobia, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Itachiyama, Karasuno, Kenma has his canon job, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Model AU, My First Fanfic, Please Don't Kill Me, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Switches character point of views, Unreliable Narrator, aoba johsai, if that makes sense, inarizarki, kamomedai, manic depression, so please bare with me :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 110,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23701288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacBonbon/pseuds/LilacBonbon
Summary: Akaashi Keiji really did not want to accept this job, especially since he had got fired from his previous boss.But what happens when Akaashi finds himself accepting a job to be the personal assistant of a worldwide renowned model,Bokuto koutarou?And what happens as Akaashi feels himself making friends, opening up more, and possibly having to confront a secret he vowed to himself he would never break?Haikyuu Modeling Alternate Universe.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Minor Haiba Lev/Yaku Morisuke - Relationship, Minor Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru - Relationship
Comments: 215
Kudos: 493





	1. Never Again

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii everyone! Welcome to my first ever written fic, so please bare with me and I appreciate if you're giving this a read! I watched an edit a few weeks back that inspired me to write a fic, and well, this happened lmao.  
> It turns out, I have a lot planned for this work that i'm really excited to share if you carry on until the end with me! 
> 
> Before you carry on, I would just like to mention a few friends that supported me throughout the writing/planning process, and that is my best friend Abi, who ultimately encouraged me to write a fic in the first place, so without her we wouldn't even be here lol, and has been advising me, and my friend Duru who beta reads my chapters, and gives me ideas to fix things if they don't make sense! And lastly, Sidal, who helps me stay encouraged and supports my story!  
> Another song that i listened to whilst writing this was Rosie by LoveLeo!
> 
> Okay! Yet again, I really appreciated if you're giving this a go, and I have big plans so would love if you could stick with me until the end! 
> 
> Much love - Bon
> 
> [ here is the instagram edit that inspired this fic!](https://www.instagram.com/p/BwiUBiAoaM1/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link)

_I got so used to keeping quiet  
Head down, heart pounding in my chest now  
I had my eyes on all the exits  
Ready to run out, run out  
I'm okay being lonely  
Cause no one really knows me  
Oh i'm okay being lonely  
Cause nobody knows  
I'm losing my head  
Haven't we all _

_~ Losing my head, Lizzy Land_

  


###### 

_Ring ring Ring ring Ring ring_

Akaashi blearily managed to open his eyes, slowly blinking the sleep out of them tiredly. As he rolled over in his bed, he attempted to block out the seemingly never ending shrill of his ringtone.

Before he shut his eyes one last time to get some form of efficient sleep before his work day started, Akaashi took note of the dark sky through the small gap of his curtains. _It’s not even dawn yet_ , Akaashi noticed frustratedly, _whoever is calling can wait another hour or so_.

 _Ring ring Ring ring Ring ring_

_Ugh._

Akaashi sighed rather defeatedly, realising that whoever was calling him at the ass crack of dawn was not going to let up anytime soon. He took a short glance towards his alarm clock, the only source of light in his otherwise pitch black room glowing mockingly in his face; 

4:32 AM

Akaashi inwardly groaned as he sat up, soft sheets pooling around his waist as he rubbed his right hand over his face, his other hand reaching over to the bedside table to grab his glasses, so he could see the damned person's name on his phone clearly. 

Iwaizumi hajime 

Akaashi was surprised to say the least...especially after their most recent, well, circumstances if you will.

 _Well, it must be important if iwa-san is calling me at this time in the morning, I’d better answer it then_. Begrudgingly, Akaashi sighed yet again, swiping the icon upwards to answer, the last glimmer of hope of getting a good night's sleep thrown out the window. 

“H-hello, Akaashi-kun, is that you?” 

_Who else would it be?_ A sleep deprived Akaashi thought bitterly to himself.

“Hello Iwaizumi-san, is there anything wrong? You are calling rather early in the morning, afterall.”

Akaashi heard the man on the end of the line groan as though he were annoyed. He wondered what could be the problem if the older man was calling him at this time in the morning, sounding like he hadn't had a wink of sleep either. 

“Yes, I’m very sorry to wake you up at such a time Akaashi-kun, but it’s rather urgent and you’re the only one that could take care of it at the end of the day.”

“And what would that be? I’m sure that is not the case and even if so —” 

Iwaizumi cut him off; “It’s nothing like that, it’s just that um, Oikawa-chan has fallen sick and needs the Aoba Johsai and Fukurodani crossover event to be rescheduled. I know it’s last minute, but since you’re the assistant, I figured I could make things a little easier at least by telling you before you got into work.”

 _Well shit_. 

That’s right. Akaashi worked for one of the most well known modeling agencies across the globe. And he was also the assistant, no personal assistant for the agency's worldwide renowned model;

_Bokuto koutarou._

Akaashi’s days just kept getting better and better. And by better, he meant _worse._

“Ashi? Akaashi, are you still there?”

_Oh right, I haven’t responded to Iwa-san yet_

“Yeah, yeah, I apologise, I was just thinking, is all,” Akaashi finally replied. 

“I am very sorry to have told you so last minute,” Iwa replied, “but I look forward to the reschedule and when we see each other again, Akaashi. Thank you very much.”

_Beep._

The call ended before Akaashi could even respond. _Great_ , he thought, _not only do I have to arrange the photoshoot for another day, but now I have to re-arrange Bokuto-san’s entire schedule for the next week or so, possibly even two._

Akaashi looked at his clock, the digital glowing numbers staring him in the face: 4:40 AM

As Akaashi stretched, he contemplated to himself; _It looks as though I have a long day ahead of me then, I better not keep Bokuto-san waiting._

Akaashi smiled to himself, _that is of course, if he is even up yet._

With one last groan, he pulled himself together and finally stepped out of bed. Akaashi winced as his bare feet hit the cold wooden floor, the chilly winter bite still leftover in the air, even at the beginning of March. 

_Right, I have a lot to do,_ he reprimanded himself.

He made a dash towards the bathroom, got into the shower, took his body puff and began to scrub himself hurriedly from head to toe. 

He turned the shower off as soon as he was done, applied toothpaste to his toothbrush and cleaned his teeth erratically, as any person would if they were in a hurry; which was a rare occurrence in itself for Akaashi Keiji, always the organized and on time individual. 

Except, that didn’t apply to him on this nuisance of a morning.

Akaashi grabbed his neatly ironed the night before uniform; it was a crisp navy blue button up shirt paired with black slacks and a burgundy tie. 

And no, _he did not_ choose this shirt as soon as it came out of the wash on Sunday because Bokuto said it complimented his ‘blue eyes’ well on his first day. _He did no such thing._

As Akaashi haphazardly threw on his clothes whilst trying to retain somewhat of an acceptable appearance, he ran a check list through his head for the day he had ahead; _cancel the photoshoot with Seijoh’s receptionist, cancel Bokuto’s private transport, as well as the other models, have the camera team pack their already prepared set, rearrange Bokuto-san’s schedule with everyone else for the next two weeks, find a suitable time slot for the reschedule with seijoh, stop by the coffee shop on the way to work and grab_ — 

_Ah, I’ll just do my best on the train ride to work and make phone calls when I actually get into my office_ , Akaashi told himself exasperatedly. 

After he pulled on his socks and tied his tie, _something he had never been good at_ , Akaashi grabbed his leather satchel, pulled it up over his shoulder, and rushed out of his bedroom, down the hallway of his apartment, and out into the front room and open-plan kitchen. 

__

Considering Akaashi had only been on a literature apprenticeship and worked part time in the library up until a few months ago, he had enough savings and earnt a little extra income working over time to snatch himself a cosy, yet modern apartment. It wasn't small, but also not too big for one person to live in. It fulfilled its job at the end of the day when all Akaashi wanted to do was fall face first onto his bed and sleep his struggles off. 

__

Once he had finished tying up his shoelaces and grabbed his jacket off the rack, Akaashi finally found himself leaving his apartment. 

__

That was until he was approximately three steps out of the door and one second away from shutting it before he realised—

__

_Crap. I nearly forgot my keys_. 

__

He silently cursed Oikawa for his so-called ‘sickness’, and quickly made his way through the door to the mini table beside it, on top sat a ceramic bowl that he snatched his keys from, grateful this morning had not got any worse by managing to lock himself out of his own apartment. 

__

And if that had happened, that meant he would _then_ have to make his way to his next door neighbours home, asking the warm-hearted old woman, _Doris_ , for the spare key, and as much as Akaashi adored her, he did not have the time to sit and chat over a cup of coffee whilst getting cat fur all over his pristine suit. _I will pay a visit to her soon though_ , Akaashi told himself, _and bring her favourite biscuits round_. 

__

For the second time that morning, Akaashi finally left his building and made his way to the local coffee shop, before heading over to the train station, ready to face the job he so called told himself he hated.

__

The job he told himself he would _never_ take again...

__

###### 

__

__

Akaashi pushed through the grand building's main entrance - the intimidating glass doors led him through to the reception where he passed through the marble pillars that held the buildings structure, showing both wealth and modernity in the premises design. 

__

Everything about the Fukurodani Co. building screamed privileged and richness. The whole structure was practically made from gold. From the outside the onlookers were no stranger to this high-rise building. They either had some type of job within the company, or worked in one of the prosperous properties around it, within the block. 

__

And Akaashi hated _everything_ about it. 

__

Well, not exactly _everything_ , but considering the last company he had been a personal assistant for, and all the hassle and ignorance that came from working amongst the famous industry, Akaashi had found it rather infuriating. 

__

He presented his staff ID to the receptionist. For the week Akaashi had known her, she was always a refreshing welcome in the company's reception, her friend who worked on the next desk over seemed friendly too, both maintaining the front desks for the public and workers that entered the building. 

__

From what Akaashi had gathered in his mornings here so far, he came to learn that the two women were really good friends, not only with each other, but with the models for Fukurodani too. Yukie and Kaori worked hard for their jobs, and were often always the first ones here to open up along with the cleaners in the morning.

__

Despite it being unreasonably early in the morning still, the first rays of sunlight painting the sky hues of soft pinks, lilacs and oranges, Yukie managed to make Akaashi smile slightly as she gave him one of her signature, cheeky, white toothed grins. 

__

Akaashi made his way over to the multiple glistening elevators that lined the first ground floor, the slight heel on his shoes echoing against the immaculate marble floor in the otherwise empty reception. 

__

Akaashi began to nervously tap his right foot against the floor, in one hand holding a weighed down coffee shop bag, and his other repeatedly pulling his falling leather strap of his satchel back over his shoulder. Impatiently, he reached his hand out to press the cold elevator buttons yet again. 

__

_Ding_

__

The lift doors opened and Akaashi stood inside them, fingertips reaching out to press Ground No. 27, on the thirty story building. After waiting five minutes for it to stop at his floor destination, they finally came to a halt and opened; 

__

_Ding_

__

They opened to his office floor, and Akaashi made his way towards the large set of double glass doors that presented you before you reached the main office and working block behind them. Behind those glass doors were six open desk spaces, modern and more spacious than your normal everyday accountant ones. Three desks were lined just in front of the floor to ceiling windows that stretched across the whole far back side of the room. The other three were placed opposite to them, along the wall where the glass doors were situated to enter the workspace, creating a walkway through the middle of where the two rows of three desks faced each other. 

__

At the back of the room was a large kitchen and dining space, where Akaashi’s favourite gadget was sitting, the holy coffee machine. Next to the kitchen space, there was a separate room for reprographics. In there were all the everyday necessities they used such as: the printer, a scanner, craft supplies like paper clips, extra paper, and more. 

__

Most importantly, at the front of all the desks, if you made your way from the back of the room and through the walkway to the front, sat another set of doors. Except these doors in particular, led to the top models office. 

__

Usually, in a company like this, the personal assistant and other models get their own spacious desk area - It was a big room afterall. However, every year where the public voted for who should be the agency's next top model, one of the advantages of being the new top model is that you get your own office and private space. 

__

So, behind those doors was Bokuto’s own, luxury bonus office, of which he hadn't had to pass over to another model for two years in a row, so far.

__

As Akaashi pushed through the set of doors to the office, he wondered idly if he would be the first one in today; _I doubt anyone is even in yet_ , Akaashi glanced at his watch: 6:47 AM. _No, normal work day usually starts at 7:45 , hopefully that gives me some peace and quiet before kono_ —

__

_Oh._

__

Akaashi looked at the sight in front of him as the doors behind him shut with a soft _click._  
He really had not been expecting to see everyone, well _almost_ everyone already situated at their desks, ready to start work for the day. _Looks like bokuto-san and the others were notified to come in early too_ , Akaashi noted as he made his way over to his own desk space.

__

“Hey, morning Akaashi!” Komi, another model for the agency greeted him rather chipperly for being called into work early on a Monday. 

__

Nonetheless, Akaashi still responded to his colleagues politely, greeting them and smiling back as they all responded, some noticeably more frustrated and tired than others. But Akaashi could relate, and plus, he got along with them all better than his last company already, despite only having worked here for a week. 

__

Akaashi’s own space was the first desk situated as you walked through the double doors and into the office, opposite the stunning wall of windows of which Akaashi enjoyed thoroughly as he got one hell of a view out of it.

__

It was also the desk closest to the top models own personal work environment, also including the desk opposite his own that had it’s back from the windows, of which a certain sandy haired model had yet to turn up. 

__

Not that Akaashi could blame him on this eventful morning, he thought as he placed his jacket over his chair and bags on top of the desk surface. At least he could get some peace and quiet before the rather annoying man managed to turn up. 

__

_Right, everyone’s coffee’s should be the right temperature now, too. Perfect._

__

Akaashi made his way past each desk, back to front, dropping off the six coffees not carelessly, but still as quickly as he could as he still had a lot to get done, narrowly face planting the corner of a desk, as a stray photoshoot equipment cart had been left in the middle of the walkway. 

__

_I’ll have to put that away soon, too, before anyone else could get potentially hurt._

__

As everyone received their coffees, just the way they liked them, they all cheered and thanked him, calling him their ‘saviour’. Akaashi smiled to himself as he made his way to his desk to grab a bag of cookies before going to the last drink round he had to make. 

__

So here’s the thing; Akaashi wasn’t bad at his job either, in fact, he was in his element, getting paid exceptionally well for doing something he ultimately didn't mind, considering one of his strong points was meticulously being able to organize and arrange things without any hassle, it was no doubt why he had the personal assistant position. That, and he had everyone's specific coffee orders memorised after just three days, on his first week at Fukurodani. 

__

Akaashi knew he excelled at this area of work. 

__

He just hated the self entitlement almost every famous person had. He knew that if you were amazing at something, you had every right to be proud and flaunt it to the world, but that did not then give them the right to treat everyone around them like litter in the streets, especially after the tiniest bit of fame had gone to their heads.

__

But so far, at Fukurodani, Akaashi thought maybe, just maybe, things could be better, and stereotypes did not apply to everyone. So that’s why since the week he had started here, Akaashi found himself making friends and smiling just a tad bit more day after day. 

__

Akaashi reached the separate office, a bag of three peanut butter cookies in one hand, and a caramel latte, _with whipped cream and two extra espresso shots_ , in the other, and also the folder of schedules under his arm, he carefully knocked on the door for permission to enter. 

__

“Come in!” a rather deep but excited voice shouted from within.

__

Akaashi entered into the top models surprisingly neat office. Although that hadn’t been the first time Akaashi had seen it, he still loved the way Bokuto took pride in having his bonus space, and had everything neatly organised on his desk and bookshelves. There was also a rather large, cosy looking armchair in the far corner of the room, and next to it stood a large plant pot, that right at this moment, Bokuto had been watering. 

__

As soon as Bokuto noticed Akaashi, he quickly paced over to his desk, abandoned the water jug and walked straight up to his personal assistant, greeting him with the widest grin on his face that the younger man had possibly ever seen. 

__

Not that he minded. 

__

“Here you are, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said as he passed over his cookies and coffee; “sorry if the coffee is a little too cold by now.”

__

“No, not at all!” Bokuto replied gratefully, “It’s perfect Akaashi! And you even bought my favourite cookies!”

__

Akaashi replied with a hint of softness in his tone, all morning frustration washed away from just having a simple conversation with the man in front of him, “It’s just something you mentioned last friday whilst we were on lunch break, is all. So I thought I'd bring them in for you from now on.” 

__

As Akaashi saw the other man's grin light up his face, which now had numerous cookie crumbs littered around it, Akaashi couldn’t help but think this job and its people weren’t so bad after all…

__

“Oh, and before I forget,” Akaashi said as he passed the folder from under his arm to Bokuto, “here's your new timetable for the next two weeks. I still have to make some phone calls regarding the cancelled Seijoh event, but other than that there wasn't too much that had to be moved.”

__

The spiky haired man smiled again as he gently took it from Akaashi’s hands, grinning as he started to read through it, before putting it down on his desk and walking over to his assistant;

__

“This is why you're the best, Akaashi! Also, when on earth did you have the time to reschedule it all, we only got the call just over an hour ago!”

__

“Oh, it was no problem, really, I did most of it on the train ride here.”

__

Bokuto didn’t look surprised to say the least. In only having Akaashi working for him for just over a week now, he knew he was a hard worker, despite how much of a hassle things could be. It was something Bokuto admired about him from the first day he met him. 

__

Bokuto smiled yet again at Akaashi, placing an arm around his shoulders, “Come on Akaashi, let’s go and see what the others are up to!” he said cheerfully as they walked through the doors and back into the main office. 

__

Looking up at Bokuto’s wide smile, with his arms around his shoulders as they walked to his own desk, Akaashi couldn’t help thinking that this job wasn’t so bad afterall. 

__

__

###### 

__

_Three weeks ago…_

__

Akaashi sighed as he planted his face in his hands, praying he will be able to go home soon. With all the yet to be filled in forms strewn across his desk, and the list of seven more phone calls he had to make, he doubted it would be anytime soon. 

__

He raised his head, brows furrowed and teeth biting his lower lip in annoyance, and looked around him at the empty desks, before glancing at the wall clock ahead of him in the dimly lit room: 8:16 PM

__

It was a sunday evening, the typical day where everyone else was at home, enjoying their well earnt time to relax before they came in the next day to face another week of work hell. 

__

Well, that was of course if you didn’t enjoy your job, which Akaashi did not _whatsoever_. 

__

Yet, Akaashi had gotten a last minute call from his boss, Oikawa, that he would have to come in today to fill out a few extra applicants some potential sponsors had dropped off that morning. 

__

That was the downside of being the assistant of one of Japan's top models, after all. 

__

After an aggravating extra half an hour, Akaashi finally managed to complete his extra tasks that had been asked of him. Stacking the now finished forms neatly and scrunching up the list of numbers before tossing it in the bin, he grabbed his belongings and made his way to Oikawa’s own, personal office. 

__

Akaashi knocked on the door, just to be sure he wouldn’t be intruding on the older model; even though he hadn’t thought anyone else except him had been ordered to come in. 

__

Akaashi was surprised to say the least when he heard shuffling from behind the door before it opened, showing a rather disheveled looking Oikawa. His tie was half undone, and his hair was extremely mussed up. 

__

_Huh, Oikawa must have been called in too, although he looks very tired and frustrated_ , Akaashi wondered idly. 

__

Luckily he knocked first after all. 

__

“What is it Akaashi-kun? I’m rather busy and have to—”

__

“I've finished arranging all the applicant forms and schedules for the next week, just like you asked me too,” Akaashi cut the other man off, growing quite agitated by his bosses arrogance. 

__

Akaashi had a life of his own too, and right now his bed was screaming for his tired and aching limbs. After running around day after day for one of Aoba Johsai’s top models, and even coming in on your day off, anyone would feel ragged and run down. 

__

Although he had only been working within the company for just under two months, Akaashi was starting to have enough of it. Instead of getting a little extra income to pay for his literature classes he wanted to take, he ended up having to deal with arrogant, egotistical, ignorant people too. 

__

Anyone else would consider Akaashi getting this job lucky, but he would rather work in a grocery shop than deal with famous people who thought they were better than everyone else around them 24/7. 

__

Oikawa narrowed his eyes at his assistant, glaring at the younger man with a look of distaste, - But Akaashi couldn’t care less at this point, all he wanted was to go home, have dinner and sleep. 

__

Oikawa snatched the forms from the younger man’s grip, not even baring them a single glance before replying, “Very well, pack up for the night then.”

__

Akaashi sighed with relief. _Finally._

__

With one last devious smirk and a “See you later, Akaashi-kun!” Oikawa shut the door in his kohai’s face. 

__

Akaashi walked over to his desk, making sure that he had picked up all of his belongings before he got on his train ride home for the night—

__

_Ring ring Ring ring Ring ring_

__

_Ugh_ , he groaned, _what could it possibly be now?_

__

Akaashi reached over to where the phone was ringing on the table, picking up to answer it; “Hello, Aoba Johsai’s assistant, what can I do for you?”

__

“H- hello? Sorry to be calling at such a late time, I was wondering if anyone would pick up,” the squeaky voice on the other end replied, “but I had to call just to check some things over like transportation fees and arrival times for the Seijoh and Date Tech fundraiser event.”

__

Akaashi tried to be polite holding in his irritation, “And how long would this possibly take, miss?” 

__

The receiver on the end seemed to pick up on his curt reply, no matter how polite Akaashi was trying to be, he really was tired and wanted this to go as quick as possible. 

__

“Around about twenty minutes just to check the listings through, if that is okay with you, sir.”

__

So after another gruelling thirty five minutes and one phone call later, Akaashi found himself packing up for the night once again. Before he would go home, he decided he would run by Oikawa’s office again, just to put the updated schedule and fully approved sponsor listings on his desk for the morning. 

__

Akaashi slung his satchel over his shoulder, grabbed the paperwork, and made his way over to his bosses office for hopefully the last time that night. Akaashi raised his fist, and tapped against the sheen glass doors. 

__

After a minute of patiently waiting, he raised his fist to knock against the glass again. 

__

Nothing. 

__

_Maybe Oikawa-san has already gone home_ , he assumed, _he did tell me to go home too, after all._

__

Deciding it would be best to drop off the paperwork on the models desk ready for the morning, especially since he knew Oikawa was always the first one in, Akaashi took it as an opportunity to open the doors and invite himself in. 

__

As Akaashi entered the room, the first thing he noticed was that the lights were still on. 

__

The second thing Akaashi noticed however, was that Oikawa was not alone. 

__

Thirdly, Akaashi could hear harsh panting and wet, slapping sounds filling the spacious office. 

__

Akaashi froze in his steps at the entrance of the office, his eyes blowing wide open in shock. 

__

Splayed out on the desk in front of him was Oikawa. Not only that, but there was also another man with him…

__

With just the desk lamp on, dimly lighting the room, Akaashi could make out the scene that was unfolding behind his eyes. 

__

Oikawa was shirtless, his stomach pressed against the surface of his desk, hips being grabbed and thrust into endlessly by the other man that was in the room with him... 

__

“Ah! Hajime!” Oikawa stuttered out. “Harder, more, please Hajime!” 

__

The other man, Iwaizumi-san, Akaashi recognised as the other model that worked for Seijoh, grunted in vigour, picking up his pace as he ruthlessly hammered into Oikawa. 

__

Akaashi was still standing rooted to the spot, unable to move a single limb, not knowing what to do, feeling as though his heart was pounding in his ears...

__

Suddenly, as if god had just answered Akaashi prayers in the most, unhelpful, humiliating way possible, Oikawa looked at the door. 

__

Looking Akaashi _right_ in the eyes. 

__

Oikawa pushed Iwaizumi away from him, rapidly reaching down to his ankles and pulling his pants back up around his waist, and swiftly pulling his shirt on. 

__

By now, Iwa had noticed what all the sudden commotion was about, noticing Akaashi staring at them in wide-eyed shock. Iwa was quick to follow suit, quickly repeating his co-workers' steps in redressing himself. 

__

Eventually realising that he had been staring at his boss having sex for just a _little too long_ , Akaashi gained all sense of coherence and stuttered out an apology; 

__

“i-i’m s-so very sorry, Oikawa-san, Iwaizumi-san, I-i’ll just be leaving now,” with a final stutter of words, Akaashi took off the way he came, ready to delete everything he had just witnessed from his mind. 

__

Before he could even leave however, he heard a rather infuriated Oikawa yell for him to come back. 

__

“Akaashi! Come back!” his boss shouted for him, distress evident in his tone.

__

Akaashi stopped, turning to meet his boss and coworker, unable to look them in the eyes, his face the deepest shade of red he thought he would ever be able to muster. 

__

“Look,” Akaashi had started, “I am very sorry to walk in just like that, but I assumed you had already gone home, and I thought it would be helpful if I—”

__

“No,” Oikawa had choked out. 

__

Akaashi halted, all words failing to come out of his mouth as he gained enough courage to look up at his boss, properly. 

__

As he studied the model's unreadable expression, he came to realise Oikawa’s eyes had begun to tear up slightly, his calm and composed manner beginning to crack, showing strong signs of...fear?

__

“Oikawa-san, are you alright?” Akaashi asked the other man, worried. He had never seen his boss like this, and quite frankly, as much as Akaashi opposed people who thought they were better because they were famous, it was an expression he decided didn’t suit Oikawa. 

__

“ _Get.Out._ ”

__

Well, that had been the last thing he thought he would hear tonight. 

__

“Get out and don’t bother turning up for work tomorrow, either,” Oikawa told his assistant bitterly, voice beginning to falter as he turned around and entered his office, doors slamming shut behind him. 

__

Akaashi opened his mouth in order to protest, but shut it when he felt a strong grip on his shoulder; 

__

“Iwaizumi-san, what are you doing?” 

__

The other model dropped his hand from its place, lowering his head in shame. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, Akaashi, and i’m sorry about your job too,” Iwa said with a hint of distress. 

__

Akaashi furrowed his brow, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth to chew on it nervously, hands wringing together with anxiety. 

__

“It’s fine. I understand.” 

__

As Akaashi pivoted on his heel to walk out, for the last time, Iwa called his name. 

__

“Akaashi!” He said, “I will make sure you find another job, and I'll transfer this month's paycheck with an added bonus into your bank account.” 

__

Akaashi smiled gratefully at the model, “there’s no need to do that Iwaizumi-san, it was my fault after all,” he responded sorrowfully. 

__

“Please, let me do this as a way to compensate.“You’ll be doing me, and although it doesn’t seem like it yet, Tooru a favour as well.” 

__

Akaashi gave in; he supposed he could accept it, but in the end he refused to take the bonus, all he felt he deserved was his paycheck. And with the final decision, he walked out of the Aoba Johsai building, into the pouring rain and neon city streets, making his way home.  
As Akaashi got on the train home that night, he thought to himself; I will never accept another job like that again. _Never again._

__

When Akaashi had received his paycheck at the end of the week, despite all his attempts at refusing the extra money from Iwa-san, there was almost _triple_ his monthly earnings that had been transferred into his bank. 

__

And with that, Akaashi had smiled to himself, silently thanking the other man as he got into bed that night. 

__

__

###### 

__

_Present…_

__

__

Akaashi was sitting in his chair, eyes fondly staring up at Bokuto as the other man sat on Akaashi’s desk, legs swinging back and forth hanging off the side, enthusiastically chatting with his assistant about anything and everything that came to mind. 

__

“And oh, oh, get this kaashi’, did you know that barn owls can be determined by their heart shaped faces?” Bokuto grinned down at Akaashi.

__

“As a matter of fact, I did not Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said, mouth quirking upwards in a slight smirk. 

__

Bokuto looked down at Akaashi, whose hands were folded resting on his chin, bright golden eyes meeting ocean blue ones.

__

“I know right! How cute is that?!” Bokuto replied, grinning. “Also I love your shirt kaashi! It really brings out the blue in your eyes!”

__

Akaashi gently smiled up at him, _he felt as though he had been doing that a lot lately_ , “that’s because it’s the same shirt you complimented last week too, Bokuto-san.”

__

Bokuto’s face lit up with realisation, “Of course, you’re right Akaashi, it is!” Bokuto chuckled.

__

Sitting here, right at this moment, in this new job, Akaashi thought maybe it wasn’t so bad afterall. That, and looking back on what happened three weeks ago, Akaashi wondered to himself that he wouldn’t be so unprofessional to get caught with his boss at work in the first place. 

__

_Luckily Bokuto-san is a man_ , Akaashi thought, _but that’s besides the point, even if it was a woman, I still wouldn’t be so unprofessional_ , he mused to himself. 

__

__

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter_...

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anndddd there we go! My first ever chapter completed, I really hoped you enjoyed it as much as I love planning and writing it all!
> 
> like I said, I'm really excited for where this story is heading, so I hope it lives up to my expectations, as well as your own!
> 
> Hopefully i'll have one chapter out weekly, so maybe every Friday!
> 
> I would appreciate kudos and your opinions! Until next time,
> 
> \- Bon <3


	2. Peanut Butter Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!! I'm back with the second chapter,, and can I just say thank you for all the support and positive reactions towards this fic and mainly the first chapter so far!! Everyone on twitter that has taken the time to dm me or comment on here has made my week! (Let's be real, year lmao) so thank you  
> Another song that I had in mind whilst writing this chapter was when will I see you again? by shakka.  
> As you can tell I put lyrics at the beginning of every chapter that I feel suit the atmosphere for each one! There's going to be 2 songs every chapter, but I'll only write the one I feel goes with most at the beginning if that makes sense lol? 
> 
> Also this whole entire chapter is mainly dialogue,, I ended up switching things around a lil bit from my notes, and from there...well, you get what you're about to read ahaha! But it was good practice for me to try and make it flow well! :) 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy Chapter two!!  
> (I call this chapter; where Akaashi makes real friends and wants to hold onto them forever and a grateful boy who can never stop blushing lmao)!
> 
> ~ Bon <3

###### 

_Every moment that we spend without time  
Pain is something how we manage on the line  
It's on us now to keep our route come hell high water  
You can count on it, I'm where you left me_

_I can count on you, to show me the way  
We can keep it light, we're going somewhere  
I won't try to fight it, don't feel like it_

_In your skin in your hair I'm tangled up  
In my head in my mind I can't get out  
When you twist and you turn teach me to run  
I'd rather hold on  
I'd rather hold on tight_

_~ Hold On, Flor_  


###### 

It was a nice, bright Monday morning, and Akaashi had been working at Fukurodani for two weeks, now starting his third. Akaashi was sitting at his desk, absentmindedly twiddling his hands and fingers, looking out towards the stunning view of the city from above, gorgeous blue and cloudless skies.

During the full two weeks he had been working here, Akaashi already felt as though he had officially become one of the Fukurodani staff, having been invited out to after work drinking sessions and get-togethers.

And despite him rather being sat at home, in the space of his own, calm, safe environment, with maybe a book or watching a new tv series, Akaashi had found that he fit in quite well with the other Fukurodani members - Although Akaashi felt as though he was too out of place going to reserved and quiet places to avoid the public eye and paparazzi, Akaashi had still found that he didn’t mind it one bit, rather enjoying himself. 

Becoming more and more comfortable with his new friends and coworkers, Akaashi found himself hesitating less and less to the invites out. 

Another person Akaashi had seen on a rather frequent basis and had clicked surprisingly well with was Bokuto’s ‘best bro’, as the top model had put it. _Kuroo Tetsurou_ was a lean, broad shouldered man with an unusual ‘rooster’ look for a hair style, which obscurely was the first thing Akaashi had noticed about Nekoma’s top model the first time he had greeted him when Bokuto had introduced them.  
However, Akaashi amusedly found out that his supposedly rare hairstyle was actually his bed hair, to which Kuroo pouted offendedly when Akaashi couldn’t hold back his chuckles...

###### 

_One week ago…_

“Yeah,” Bokuto had snorted last week as kuroo came to eat lunch with them, “Kuroo’s hair is always like that, no matter how much his hair stylists try to arrange it for a photoshoot, they just never seem to be able to get his bed head down,” Bokuto laughed to Akaashi. 

“Shut up, you stupid owl!” Kuroo had responded jokingly, with little mocking heat in his tone. 

Akaashi had laughed along with them, including another more timid, two toned haired man that he found himself relating to more and more, the better they managed to converse. 

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick!” Bokuto had announced, excusing himself from their private corner, away from public view in their little reserved restaurant. As Bokuto had got up to leave, Akaashi didn’t feel the slightest bit nervous of what he usually would, knowing he’ll be able to carry on the conversation, laughing with them, although he had missed Bokuto’s warmth from beside him. 

However, after a few minutes Akaashi had felt the atmosphere go almost... _Cold_?

Akaashi glanced up at the two men opposite him, noticing Kuroo had his eyes narrowed, looking like he was staring at his empty plate as though it had personally insulted him. Whereas Kenma was staring into space just behind Akaashi’s shoulder, lips pursed, almost looking as though he knew what was going to happen next...

_Almost as if they had done this multiple times before._

Akaashi had asked, “Is everything alright?” And began to wring his hands together worriedly, a poor habit he knew he did frequently. 

Kuroo had hesitated at first, opening and shutting his mouth a few times before he eventually responded;

“It’s just that...We don’t mean to shove this on you all of a sudden, but considering how well you and Kou get along, me and Kenma thought it was best if we bring it up now and done with.”

Akaashi bit his bottom lip, chewing on it as he waited for Nekoma’s top model to carry on where this conversation was headed…

Surprisingly, it was Kenma that ended up speaking after he noticed his friend become slightly downcast; “Bokuto tends to...get in these _moods_.”

“Moods?” Akaashi had responded, brows furrowed in question, “what kinds of moods?” 

“Well,” Kuroo began, leaning forward in his seat, “They’re not just _any_ types of moods either, they are kinda more like slumps? If you get what I mean.” 

He glanced over to Kenma, to which the professional gamer gave a slight nod of his head, almost as if he was asking for reassurance from the younger man.

“Bokuto’s most likely going to come back soon, so Kuroo hurry up and make your point,” Kenma had said cheekily, glancing up towards the rooster haired male.

Kuroo’s eyes flickered down at the shorter man, something Akaashi couldn’t quite place flashing in his eyes briefly before disappearing completely. 

“My _point_ is,” Kuroo emphasised, glancing down at the man cockily before turning to continue with their new friend opposite him, “If Kou _does_ get into one of his slumps, we’re just a phone call away.”  
“Plus, I like you a lot pretty boy, so treat Kou well,” Kuroo winked at Akaashi, earning an eye roll and an amused look from Kenma as the model leaned back in his seat, but before Akaashi could ask further, Bokuto came sauntering through the entrance as if on cue. 

“Hey! I know we come here like, all the time, but the air freshner in the bathroom smells wayyy nicer now, I think they’ve changed it,” Bokuto hummed thoughtfully as he pulled his chair out, and took his rightful place next to Akaashi. 

Akaashi gave Bokuto a short, bemused look, Bokuto returning it by grinning widely at him, golden flecked eyes glistening as though he had just unlocked a treasure chest, fascinated by the simplest of things. 

“Bro, no way!” Kuroo responded playfully to Bokuto, as Kenma glanced over at Akaashi, the two staring at each other with their signature unamused expressions, the corners of their mouths quirking up every now and then, just happy to sit and listen as the other two models continued their harmless bickering like five year olds. 

As Akaashi found himself growing closer to Kuroo and Kenma, as well as Bokuto over the next two weeks, Akaashi felt excited for the first time in what seemed like forever, just excited to see where this close budding friendship was going to take him, content in his surroundings for once.

He’d put aside all the other questions he had about bokuto for now, he’d figure it out when it came to it, although what, he wasn’t quite sure of. _All I know is that I'll be there for him whenever something like that does happen_...Akaashi told himself.

###### 

_Present_...

Akaashi sighed, shaking himself out of his daydream. So far he knew everything was going really well, _so why do I always have to bring myself down?_ Akaashi berated himself. _Am I really cut out for this job?_

“Hey, Akaashi are you alright?” Washio, one of the modeling members on the next desk over asked, pulling Akaashi out of his stupor. 

Akaashi looked up to the other man, not realising how out of it he must have looked, “I'm fine thank you, Washio-san, I am just tired is all,” he replied, grateful his co-worker had asked. 

“Fair enough, just ask us if you ever need help, okay? Remember, you’re officially one of us at Fukurodani now, so don’t think that you have to do everything all on your own. We don’t know what exactly, nor do we have to, but we’re not gonna treat you like they did back in your old place. Plus, you have Sarukui to help too, if he’s free.”

“That’s really nice of you all, thank you. By the way with what happened at my old place, it really wasn’t—”

Suddenly the doors opened, cutting their conversation off, everyone not even looking up from their laptops, already knowing who it was. 

Akaashi looked up, noticing a rather tousled sandy haired model had entered the room, ever the one for making an entrance. 

Komi was the first to snicker, pointing up at his friend's messy bed head, his scarf thrown over his shoulder uncared for, and his tie still sloppily undone; “Late again, are we?”

The sandy haired model looked over to where Komi was getting ready to leave for an interview, retorting back, “Shut your mouth, Komi! It takes hours to turn up looking this good everyday!” he winked at them all. 

They all groaned in response, used to his antics. Onaga stared at Konoha with a put on unamused look; “Yeah, that explains why you are the top model then,” he said sarcastically. 

“You know what,” Konoha huffed, walking over to his desk station opposite Akaashi, “I don’t deserve to be made fun of by my own so called _friends._ ”

Akaashi laughed, taking in the jokey bickering happening around him, happy to just watch and listen amusedly. 

Konoha sat down, rearranging his messy hair through the reflection of his laptop. Once he had finished, he noticed the now cold cup of coffee that had been placed on his coaster just over an hour ago;  
“Awh, thanks Akaashi!” and went to take a sip out of it, despite it being cool. 

Everyone stared at him in horror, still not used to the fact he wouldn’t heat it up again. “What?” Konoha had responded somewhat offendedly, “Don’t stare at me like that! It’s just like ice coffee!”

Sarukui, the assistant that handled the rest of the models schedules (being as they weren’t as busy as the top model, but still famous nonetheless), countered back, “If that’s the case, and you always come in late, why don’t you just get your own coffee on the way here? I’m sure another five minutes won’t hurt,” he chuckled. 

It was then Akaashi’s turn to speak; “Or I could get you an iced coffee instead, Konoha-san.” 

This caused the others to all turn their heads in Akaashi's way, staring at him like lost puppy dogs. 

“Huh,” Konoha replied with a dumbfounded look on his face, “Why didn’t I think of that before.” 

Everyone in the room snickered at him again, causing Konoha to pout and retort things such as; “Hey! I’m not dumb!” While Akaashi just sat smiling, entertained by his friends and co-workers. 

“Seriously though, why are you always late _every_ single day?” Washio had said, the first one to break the bickering. 

“It’s the stupid trains, I swear, they are _always_ delayed,” Konoha said, sighing. 

Sarukui glanced over to where he was sitting, happily sipping at his freezing coffee, “But they aren’t always delayed. Well sometimes they are, like when it’s snowing, but not _everyday._ ”

Konoha looked up at his friend, “Oh yeah, and how would you know, Sarukui-chan?” 

“Uh, because I get on the same one as you,” he responded calmly. 

Konoha spat out his drink, screeching as everyone else stared at him disgustingly, “Since when?!” he screeched. 

Sarukui didn’t even reply, just shook his head in disbelief, a faint smile on his face, and carried on arranging schedules for the rest of the models for the next upcoming week. 

The sandy haired model pouted over at Washio, but replied before he could say anything else; “Don’t look at me like that Konoha, you know it’s true.” 

“Yeah,” Komi spoke up, feeling the need to get a rise out of his friend even more, “he’s got a point, I can’t believe you didn’t even know, we knew before you and we don’t even go the same route!” 

Konoha slouched down in his fluffy chair, faking a miserable look on his face, before perking up in a split second again, pointing his finger at the desk opposite him, startling Akaashi. 

“Akaashi, my dude, my man, at least you believe me, right?!” Konoha looked at the assistant, eyes shimmering somewhat hopefully. 

“Although you were late today, I can’t say i've worked here long enough to determine your tardiness just yet,” Akaashi paused for a second, thinking before his next reply, “However, you have been late every day since I started here. And that’s three weeks, Konoha-san.” 

Out of nowhere, the room burst into fits of giggles and snickers, unable to contain their laughter at their new co-workers response, Akaashi cracking a smile to the desk opposite him. 

“I like him, I like him a lot,” Onaga had said, wiping tears out of his eyes from the whole conversation, trying to calm his laughter down. 

“Me too, I’m glad you are our friend, Akaashi-kun,” Washio had replied, as a chorus of agreements chided in too. 

Akaashi nodded, the top of his ears colouring slightly from acknowledgment, “Me too, thank you,” he chuckled back before the rest of the room calmed down and tried to get back into their routine of work. 

“I’m surprised Bokuto didn’t come in to see what all the commotion was about,” Komi said as he pulled his coat over his shoulders.

The others hummed in reply; “Maybe he just has a lot to—”

“Akaaashiiiii!” A loud groan from behind the top models doors suddenly sounded throughout the room. 

“Speak of the devil,” Komi had said as he made his way out, meeting an escort to take him to where he needed to be. 

Akaashi got up from his chair, politely bowing and excusing himself from the conversation to walk up to Bokuto’s own office doors. 

As he pushed himself through to where the spiked hair man was on the other side, Akaashi was met with a slumped Bokuto, whose head was face down on top of a pile of papers, black and white streaked hair in a slight disarray. 

Akaashi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, _what is Bokuto-san doing?_ he thought to himself.  
“Bokuto-san, are you okay? Did you want me to do anything for you?” 

Bokuto raised his head slightly, a visible pout on his lips and strands of out of place hair falling across his forehead. He looked up at Akaashi whilst simultaneously trying to blow the strands out of his eyes, pouting again at his failed attempt as a white strip fell limp again.

Akaashi laughed, but tried to suppress it, _I really shouldn’t be laughing at my boss_ , he told himself - But he couldn’t help it, he thought Bokuto looked rather adorable, continuously trying to blow strands out of his face, no matter how many failed attempts. 

Akaashi couldn’t stand to watch any longer, no matter how funny he thought it looked; instead decided to march up to the man himself, before reaching over and grazing his fingertips across Bokuto’s forehead, fixing the out of place hair back to it’s usual spikiness. 

When he stepped back and looked Bokuto in the eye, he had realised what he had done. Bokuto was looking at him appreciatively, smiling at Akaashi brightly. 

Akaashi did a double take, his thoughts swirling around in his head, _Wait, why am I blushing? That was so unprofessional, stop it right now Akaashi._

“Awh, thanks Kaashi’!” Bokuto said, mood perking up a bit. 

“I am very sorry Bokuto-san, that was extremely unprofessional of me to do that, it won’t happen again,” Akaashi said worriedly, biting on his lower lip. Bokuto noticed his assistants uneasiness, choosing this moment to walk over to him, where he was standing in front of the chair in the corner. 

Bokuto looked at him, slight panic glimmering behind his eyes, wondering if he had done anything to scare Akaashi off all of a sudden. “Akaashi, it’s fine, you don’t have to worry about any of that, it was a simple gesture,” Bokuto met Akaashi’s eye line, giving him a light-hearted smile. 

Akaashi shook himself out of his overthinking, looking up at the top model, “Yes you’re right, I’m sorry if I over reacted, thank you Bokuto-san,” he returned the smile. They both stood there, studying each other for a few seconds before Akaashi pulled Bokuto out of his reverie; 

“What was it that you called me in for, anyway Bokuto-san?” 

Bokuto continued to stare at Akaashi for a few more moments, almost as if he were contemplating something. That’s when he realised his personal assistant had asked him something, and he had just been standing there, gazing at him this whole entire time. 

He blinked, then Akaashi noticed that he had bowed his head slightly, pursed lips mumbling something under his breath, going back to his downcast mood he seemed to be in beforehand. 

“Sorry Bokuto-san, but could you repeat that? I couldn’t quite hear you,” Akaashi said, taking a step towards his boss. 

Bokuto repeated a little mumble again, before realising Akaashi still couldn’t hear him. He looked up with a slight guilty look among his owl-like features. _I wonder what’s the matter all of a sudden, Akaashi thought idly._

That’s when he heard it. He was surprised to say the least, he thought Bokuto was going to say something terrible, like he lost the schedules for the next week, or he got Akaashi to arrange the wrong transport, not however, what just came out of Bokuto’s mouth. 

“It’s just,” Bokuto sulked, “I was really looking forward to the Seijoh event, we haven’t had a fundraiser crossover in a while,” he finished. 

When Bokuto looked over at Akaashi, he was the one to look slightly worried this time round, wondering just how dumb he might of sounded, getting upset over such a little thing. “It’s not a big deal, really! It’s just I was looking forward to it and then it got cancelled at such short notice, leaving all the sponsors empty handed,” Bokuto finished. “I know it’s stupid, getting upset over such a little thing, but yeah,” he mumbled one last time before looking down again. 

Akaashi looked at the model. In the short time that he had known him, he knew they had become close friends and got along really well. Standing here right now however, Akaashi decided he never wanted Bokuto to look down again, no matter how big or stupid the problem was. 

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said, taking another step closer in front of him, “Firstly, it doesn’t matter how small or stupid the problem may be, but if it’s bothering you it obviously matters, especially if it’s making you a little upset,” he smiled up at Bokuto, the other man raising his head up in acknowledgment, peircing amber eyes looking down at the man in front of him. 

“Secondly, the day the Seijoh event got cancelled last week, I spoke to one of their models and assistants to have it rearranged for another day, which means you can still look forward to it, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi finished. 

“Really?” Bokuto said thoughtfully. “But I haven’t seen it on the schedule Akaashi, that’s why I just assumed it wasn’t happening at a later date.” 

“Ah, that’s because it’s been settled for some time next month, that’s why it hasn’t shown up on your schedule yet. It’s my fault I forgot to tell you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said, glancing at him. 

Bokuto resolutely perked up, stronger this time whilst responding to Akaashi, “Don’t be silly kaashi’, it’s not like I asked either!” 

Akaashi hummed thoughtfully while smiling, “I suppose you’re right there, too.” 

_And there it was again._

That occasional pause in time after they have a conversation where they just stand there, unable to look away from each other. It had happened countless times everytime Akaashi was alone with Bokuto.

And it made Akaashi’s nerves set on _fire._

It also frightened him to no end, always causing his overthinking to come to an immediate halt, and he couldn’t tell whether that was a bad or good thing. But at this very moment, he knew this particular feeling all too well... but never to such an _extreme_. 

And all he wanted for this feeling, for this particular emotion, was for it to _go away_.

Akaashi was the first one to break eye contact - _he always was_ , before remembering something. 

“Bokuto-san, that reminds me, I forgot to give you your cookies this morning,” Akaashi said, voice wavering slightly, but thankful he could finally break out of whatever trance the other man held over him. “I’ll go and get them from my bag right now.” 

As Akaashi made his way out the doors, he heard Bokuto shout to him; “This is why you’re the best Kaashi’!” Just like he had done everyday for the last two weeks.  
Akaashi smiled to himself. 

However, when he was fully out of the top models office and was just about to make his way over to his own workspace, he noticed the four other men staring at him in an almost comical kind of way. 

Akaashi stared at them, perplexed. _Why on earth are they all looking at me like that?_ He thought to himself, before he finally just asked them straight; “Why are you all staring at me like that?” he asked nervously, his laughter trailing off with a lilt towards the end. 

They all held their gaze on him, then chuckled, “It’s nothing, it’s nothing!” 

“It’s just, whenever Bokuto has a little upset or moodswing, you can always snap him out of it almost right away, or just by saying the most simplest of things to him,” Sarukui explained to Akaashi, filling in for the others who all nodded in agreement. 

“Mhm,” Konoha chirped in, “It must be nice. We try to help him, but he usually ends up naturally pulling himself out of it. His little mini upsets are fine most of the time, but we still don't have the ability to just say a few things and he magically cheers up again.” 

“You must be special, Akaashi-kun,” Onaga chuckled lightheartedly. 

Akaashi reached down into his satchel, brows furrowing in thought, before finally standing up straight again, this time with a bag of cookies in his hand. “That was hardly a mood of any sort,” Akaashi murmured, “He was just upset about the Seijoh cancelation, is all.”

 _Come to think of it, Kuroo and Kenma mentioned something about Bokuto having these ‘moods’ when we were out for lunch last week. Could this be them? No, their tone sounded much more serious than what I just had to do,_ Akaashi thought to himself.

“Ah,” Washio said before all the others responded in unison; “Emo mode.” 

Akaashi looked at them in confusion. “What do you mean by ‘Emo mode’? How is that different to any other moods he has too?” he asked questionly. 

But before he got a response, Bokuto came out of his office. _He must have been wondering why I was taking so long just to grab a bag of cookies_ , Akaashi noted. 

Bokuto grinned, before faltering slightly, looking at the others as he realised everyone had gone dead quiet. 

“Ohohoh, why has it gone quiet all of a sudden? I hope you weren’t trying to scare Akaashi away from me here,” Bokuto had said, but Akaashi could tell there wasn’t his usual cheeriness behind his words. 

Akaashi stretched his arm out, handing him his cookie bag as Bokuto sauntered over to him, excited to eat the sweet treat. 

“Nah, don’t worry Bo, we were just talking about how much of a good assistant Akaashi is,” Konoha explained. “Wayyy better than Sarukui, that’s for sure.”

“Hey!” Sarukui piped up in offense, “It’s not my fault I have to deal with all of your asses separately!”

Everyone in the room laughed, including Bokuto who was also chuckling along whilst enjoying his cookies, crumbs going everywhere, the usual friendly and jokey atmosphere returning as though it had never left. 

“Alright, I'm gonna go back into my office, I need to reply to some one on one emails!” Bokuto announced before making his way back inside his personal workspace. 

That’s when Konoha spun around in his chair, turning to face Akaashi dead on from where he was still standing. The sandy haired man wiggled his eyebrows questioningly, almost as if he was taunting Akaashi. 

Akaashi groaned, “What is it now, Konoha?” Also used to his co-workers antics. 

Konoha clutched a hand over his chest in fake hurt; “You get Bo cookies, but not us?! Someone has favourites…” 

Akaashi flushed slightly, _There I go again, god I really have to get a hold of myself_ , he told himself sternly before speaking aloud; “It’s just something I learnt whilst we were out for lunch last week. Plus the coffee shop I go to, their peanut butter cookies usually get thrown out most of the time as they’re the least popular...And as they are Bokuto-san’s favourites, I figured i’d be killing two birds with one stone. That way, I would be doing multiple favours too.” 

They all cooed and awed at Akaashi, causing the assistant to sigh as he sat down in his chair, brows furrowed, biting his lower lip. He pretended to do work when in fact he had finished everything he needed to do for the next week and half, instead opting to just stare at himself through the computer screen’s reflection. 

“You guys, stop picking on the new guy!” Washio had shushed the others, much to Akaashi's glee. 

“Akaashi knows us all well enough by now to know what we’re up to!” Konoha had chuckled in response. Meanwhile Akaashi looked up from behind his screen, staring at the annoying model ahead of him, giving him one of his signature death glares he was surely used to by now. 

Konoha just returned it with another wink. 

Akaashi sighed, giving up, but not before he could stop the slight smile spreading onto his face, _I really like this new place and its people_ , he thought gratefully. 

At the same time, Komi had walked back through the doors, taking off his scarf, making his way over to his desk. 

“So,” Washio said, “How’d it go?” 

Komi sat down, huffing. “Same as per usual. The way the client kept emailing me and ringing up Sarukui, I thought it was going to be an interview for a major magazine, but it turns out it was just for one of those stupid, underground teenage girls magazines, where you don’t even get a feature or anything,” he finished dejectedly.  
“Awh, don’t worry Komi!” Konoha said to him, “You’ll get your big break soon, I mean look who you’re working for! Plus you’re a fairly new model to this company, give it some time.”

Komi looked up at Konoha appreciatively, brightening up a bit, “Yeah, I suppose so! Anyways, what did I miss? Anything good?”

Washio, Onaga, Sarukui, and even Akaashi himself all turned to glare at Konoha before saying in unison; “Don’t you dare.”

Konoha gasped offendedly, “How dare you! I wasn't even going to say anything!” 

To which Komi then retorted back, “Oh, so you _have_ been annoying them all like usual while I was gone then?”

Konoha huffed and slumped back down in his chair for the second time that day, a visible pout on his lips.

“On a more serious note though, we were kinda just telling Akaashi about Bokuto’s moods,” Onaga said. 

Akaashi saw this as his chance to get further answers; “Speaking of that, what do you mean exactly by ‘Emo modes’ and other types he gets?” 

“Ohhh, I see,” Komi explained. “I suppose the others have told you mostly about them then, I'll just fill in what they were going to say then,” he said, the others nodding in agreement, like it was routine. 

Akaashi hummed, willing Komi to carry on, the feeling that this whole situation felt familiar. 

“So... Bokuto get’s emo modes, which are little things that bother him like any other person, normal things that upset you, but...he gets it into his head that it is stupid or dumb? Then they are the slumps. Kuroo told us that he and Kenma had already brought it up to you, saying he trusts you. But, there’s days where Bokuto’s moods, _slumps_ \- if you will, get out of hand. Sometimes it can come out of nowhere, just overthinking or a switch that goes off. Or, it can trigger after a minor inconvenience on an already bad day.”

“We try to help him out as much as we can,” Komi carried on, “but sometimes it’s not always as simple as that…” he finished off in a quiet murmur, looking down at his keyboard. 

“Thank you Komi, for explaining. I think I understand the difference between what you mean a bit better now,” Akaashi said thankfully, still trying to roughly piece it altogether. 

“It’s not any of our business, but we aren't just his work colleagues, we are his close friends too, just like you are now, too Akaashi,” Sarukui said tentatively. “But we are just looking out for him you see, we know he can protect himself, but every once in a while we want him to fully understand that we are all going to be there for him too, as well as him just being there for us when we need it.” 

Akaashi took this moment to observe everyone around the room; all of which had stricken or upset expressions, eyes casted downwards or into blank space. Akaashi knew that everyone in the Fukurodani modeling agency was close with each other, able to joke around and bicker. He also knew they held a deep care for one another, but seeing it first hand had something striking close to Akaashi’s heart.  
He was glad that Bokuto had such caring friends along with Kuroo and Kenma, always looking out for him, no matter what.  
But from what he has also heard so far, he hopes he can be one of the people alongside them to make Bokuto realise just how deeply he was cared for. 

Even if it was one of the last things he did, he would make sure that Bokuto would realise one day, shocked that he hadn’t already. But Akaashi also had a vague understanding of why and where these sort of things manifested from. 

He knew himself all _too well_. 

_I promise to be one of the people that make Bokuto realise just how much he means to others,_ Akaashi vowed to himself. Despite only knowing Bokuto for two weeks and one day, he was extremely grateful for everything he had already shown him, everyone he had met and become friends and clicked so well with. 

_Now it’s my turn to return the favour._

The others were observing Akaashi, although he himself was unaware, instead looking at his laptop screen, forehead creased in concentration with his lip between his teeth, contemplating all the information he had just been told thoroughly. 

Without Akaashi even having to voice it aloud, the other five men glanced at each other knowingly, already telling from his actions and words that he was going to be the assistant that would break the cycle. _Hoping, praying, begging,_ it would be Akaashi to do it. 

_Not that he himself knew yet, but would soon come to realise it more a little further on._

Instead for now just returning back to their normal joyous atmosphere, worrying about the rest when it all came down to it. _I can only wait until that moment,_ Akaashi found himself thinking…

###### 

_Ring ring Ring ring Ring ring_

A loud, piercing phone call cut through everyone's returned bickering and joking about. In the last thirty or so minutes, everyone had gone back to their routine of work, chatting and laughing like normal. In that time Bokuto had also come from within his office, announcing joyfully that he had finally got back to all his emails, opting to sit on the end of Akaashi’s desk, which had been his new designated spot for the past couple weeks. 

So when the phone call cut through the room, despite it going off nearly every hour, both Bokuto and Akaashi had jumped out of their skin. 

The others laughed at them, Bokuto chuckling at himself too, whilst Akaashi tried to regain enough sense to actually do his job and answer it. 

“Hello, Fukurodani’s personal assistant, how may I help?” 

The others had gone back to their own tasks, Bokuto deciding to rearrnage Akaashi’s pens inside of their pots according to colour, seeing as his source of conversation had been cut off from him, legs swinging off the side of the desk. 

“Hello, this is Nekoma’s assistant, Yaku Morisuke, and you must be Akaashi Keiji, correct?”

Akaashi glanced up at Bokuto in confusion, wondering how they already knew his name. Bokuto noticed the look in his way, pausing midway to collect a pen he had clumsily dropped on the floor, before taking his rightful place again. His eyes peered into Akaashi’s slightly confused ones, raising his eyebrows in question as if to say, _Is everything okay_? 

Akaashi blinked, then gently shook his head in confirmation, Bokuto smiling going back to rearranging things on Akaashi’s desk. 

_That felt...strange_ , Akaashi thought to himself before realising he was on call. 

“Yes, that is correct, is there anything I could do for you?” he said unfalteringly, all professionalism seeping back through him. 

“I was just wondering if we could see if there was any free space on Bokuto’s schedule? Kuroo has been—” 

Yaku got cut off suddenly, another voice shouting in the background taking over instead. The phone went muffled for a moment, almost as if someone had their hand over the speakers to stop from being heard;

“Shut up, _Lev!_ ” Akaashi heard what must have been Yaku shouting on the other end of the line. And by the looks of things, everyone else and Bokuto heard too, but returned almost immediately to their work as though it was normal. Bokuto grinned at Akaashi in realisation, obviously knowing it was Kuroo’s assistant on the other line, an excited look appearing on his sharp features. 

Then Yaku, _Kuroo’s assistant_ , returned back to the phone call. “I’m so sorry about that Akaashi-san, that was merely professional.” 

Akaashi chuckled, responding, “It’s okay, now what were you saying about an event or meet up?” Along with the inner thought of, _I could name a few_. 

Bokuto looked down at him with those wide, piercing eyes, shimmering at him with hope and anticipation. Akaashi hoped that whatever they were about to arrange would be set in stone, he remembered Bokuto saying on the way home from lunch that it’s rare for a Nekoma and Fukurodani crossover. And considering it would be with one of Bokuto’s best friends, Akaashi hoped Bokuto’s schedule would be free enough if it meant he could see that smile on his face for longer. 

“Oh yeah, sorry Akaashi-kun, but is there any free space on Bokuto-san’s schedule? The CEO’s of both Fukurodani and Nekoma have agreed that it was long due for us to have a crossover. We recently got offers from a major magazine branch that they wanted to feature the top models on the front cover, as well as follow ups throughout with the rest of the agency's models.” 

Akaashi immediately brought up Bokuto’s schedule on his laptop upon hearing the exciting offer. Just so it happens, the top model’s schedule had a lot of gaps for April next month's timetable, other than the rescheduled Aoba Johsai event. Although he was sure that would change, _first come first serve, right?_

Akaashi’s face lit up in glee. “Bokuto-san’s schedule is rather scarce next April, so is it possible to have it arranged for then?” 

He heard Yaku on the other end shout out all of a sudden again, muffled by his attempt at covering the receiver; “Lev! Could you ask Kuroo if he’s free next month? His schedule isn’t loading up on my laptop!” he heard the assistant shout again. 

After a few seconds of waiting for a reply, and Akaashi contently watching the streaked haired man playing around with odd bits and pieces on his desk, he got an answer. 

Nekoma’s assistant apologised yet again to Akaashi, mumbling how their internet was always terrible at their workplace. 

Akaashi chuckled and said it’s fine, and after a few extra minutes of chatting back and forth and trying to pick a day for what would be best, they finally settled on a date.  
_Tuesday, April 21st._

Which was perfect in both of their eyes considering Fukurodani had the Seijoh event and Nekoma apparently had a meet and greet with a newly emerging company, _Date Tech_.  
It was also in the middle of the month, which gave the companies enough time to arrange everything else in the meantime. 

Before they ended the call, Akaashi remembered to ask a lingering question he had thought of earlier before Lev had interrupted on the other end; 

“Yaku-san, if you don’t mind me asking, what magazine company is this photoshoot for?” 

He heard Yaku’s short, tinkering laugh before enthusiastically replying, “Vogue Japan.”

Akaashi’s face dropped, the reality flooding back in that he really was working for a famous modeling company, and good friends with multiple of them. He was excited nonetheless, especially from all the stories and wide range of all sorts of things they have done in the past for the media. 

He was just grateful that he could now be a part of it, and witness all of the events they would be offered in the future. 

_Huh_ , Akaashi thought, _I thought I would never see the day where I would be genuinely happy working for these sort of people._

Akaashi smiled to himself yet again, partially still watching Bokuto play with things on his desks, legs swinging off the side. 

With final goodbyes and thank you’s, the call ended. 

As soon as Akaashi broke the news to the other five men in the room, they erupted with cheers and shouts. They all seemed to be very thrilled and looking forward to this event. Not only because they would be doing a crossover with some of their closest friends, but also because of the magazine they were shooting for. _Vogue Japan_. One of the top best sellers in the Japan fashion and lifestyle world. 

An hour later, which in that time Bokuto had returned to his office and Akaasshi made notes of what he had to do now, the atmosphere in the room was higher than ever. 

All at once, Bokuto emerged from his office with his coat on, and grabbed Akaashi’s from the back of his chair and flung it onto his shoulders excitedly, “Come on kaashi! Don’t overwork yourself, everyone’s on their lunch break now! Plus you promised you’d take me to try your favourite sushi place as it’s quiet and relatively hidden!” 

Akaashi laughed up at Bokuto whilst shutting his laptop off for the time being. He pulled his jacket and scarf on whilst grabbing his wallet and phone, leaving his satchel under his desk. 

“Oh that’s right, I did, didn't I Bokuto-san?” Akaashi smiled at the other man, before Bokuto grabbed his wrist, ultimately pulling him through the doors while shouting; 

“Come onnn Akaashi! I'm starving!” With a last chuckle from the assistant, the doors clicked shut behind them. 

The remaining five men stared after them in wonder, slurping on their noodles and gulping their coffees down. Sarukui and Onaga were at the back of the room in the kitchen, the others eating at the diner space. 

Komi noticed that Konoha was staring after them, a lopsided smile on his face and a mischievous glint in his eyes. Konoha felt the shorter man’s glance on him, turning his head to look at him fully. 

The sandy haired model tilted his head to the side, eyebrows raising in question. “What?!” he said. “I’m just really happy, okay?!” 

Everyone heard and laughed as the other two decided to sit and join the rest of them with their lunches. 

Komi nodded his head in agreement before saying wistfully; “Yeah you’re right. Bokuto seems more himself than ever lately, too.” 

Washio hummed thoughtfully, “I was thinking the same thing actually. It’s nice to see the real him back after what’s happened recently.”

Onaga smiled before chipping in, “Maybe it’s something to do with having Akaashi as his new assistant…”

The others hummed and nodded in unison, all obviously agreeing. 

“Yeah,” Konoha said, “I have a good feeling about Akaashi.” 

He smiled to himself, returning to eat his lunch peacefully. 

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you if you got this far!! The next chapter we see more of Akaashi's inner feelings?!?! ;) Ahhhh  
> Also what happened with Bokuto's past?? Something feels like a repetition perhaps mmmm
> 
> may i jut say Konoha and the rest of Fukurodani are precious, along with Bokuto who is the sweetest bean lmao. Akaashi's desk is his new fav spot bless ;)
> 
> also idk why my chapter 1 Notes are now showing below chapter two instead?? So just ignore that lmao whoops!
> 
> Genuinely thank you all sm and look after yourselves! 
> 
> ~ Bon <3


	3. Fonder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii everyone I'm back with another chapter!! 
> 
> Can I just say thank you for the people who commented or messaged me about the first two chapters so far! It really motivates me and makes my day to read all of them so tysm <3 
> 
> another song I listened to for this chapter in mind is Forever by Billy Raffoul (One of my faves)!
> 
> Also thanks to my bestie Abi who carries on giving me help when I'm stuck, Duru who helps me out by always beta reading my chapters and Sidal for the amazing support!! 
> 
> This is a rather long chapter so far compared to the others,,, and I really had fun writing it ;) 
> 
> ~ Much love, Bon <3

###### 

_'Cause sometimes I just feel like I'm a freak  
When I wake up, I just don't like what I see  
All the way from my head right down to my feet  
I wish that I thought differently…_

_The voice inside my head that's tellin' me I'm okay  
Entertain it for a second, then I push it away  
Yeah, I swear to God I'm tryin', but I don't know how to be  
How to be a good friend to me_

_Thoughts  
Sometimes, I just can't control my thoughts_

_~ Thoughts, Sasha Sloan_

###### 

Akaashi was currently staring out of the window, sitting on a stall waiting for Bokuto to finish paying for their lunch. No matter how many times Akaashi had offered to pay, Bokuto had always been persistent since Akaashi buys everyone coffees everyday, and most importantly - Bokuto’s peanut butter cookies. 

So with that, it had been routine for Bokuto and Akaashi to eat lunch together during their break, today marking the fourth week Akaashi had started at Fukurodani. 

On the third week of Akaashi working there, Bokuto had insisted after locking up on a Monday night (the day which they got the news for the Nekoma crossover) that they should hang out after work too, instead of just lunchtime. Plus most lunchtimes, Kuroo and Kenma tagged along, which Akaashi didn’t mind at all as it was a chance for them to get to know each other better. 

And that’s when Bokuto had come up with the idea of them going round one anothers; ultimately deciding that going to Bokuto’s was too risky just in case the paparazzi caught on, and well, the public in general really. So every night last week Bokuto had gone round Akaashi’s after work, usually just deciding to eat dinner together and watch a new series or movie. 

During last week alone, Akaashi had learnt even more about the top model. Basic everyday things that Akaashi quite frankly enjoyed learning about him, even little things such as; his favourite snacks, stories from when he was little, his hobbies - _where they both discovered they played volleyball in highschool,_ what genre of TV he liked, and even little things like how he liked his eggs in the morning ( _Since he already knew how he liked his coffee, yet Bokuto stared at him in horror to Akaashi’s puzzlement when he had asked him this_ ). All of which Akaashi found himself intrigued to learn more about. 

And of course in return, Bokuto had learnt the same things about Akaashi, just happy to be in each other’s company. 

There was also the thrill and excitement of having to be as quick as they could in getting to Akaashi’s apartment. Even though it was less risky, there was still the threat of rumours and stupid headlines being posted all over social media. 

Usually Akaashi would never go through that sort of hassle for someone, or possibly getting caught up in a social misconception, especially with a _famous_ person. But for Bokuto, he had found himself becoming more and more lenient.

Even surprising _himself._

In reality, Akaashi kind of enjoyed the thrill, both he and Bokuto narrowly missing the paparazzi or even just fans that had noticed them in the streets, _three times,_ all in one week. 

On one particular rainy night they had just gotten out of work, they decided that they would get take out and watch a new movie together. As they were coming out of the chinese restaurant, food bags in tow, they had heard a crowd of people following behind them, and when Bokuto turned around to try and catch a glimpse of them through the pouring rain, he barely just realised before they could lift their cameras and snap a photo, rapidly grabbing hold of Akaashi’s hand and making a run for it. 

It took them twenty minutes longer than normal that night to get home, having to hide in alleyways and behind buildings to shake them off, and the last train already delayed. The harsh downpours making everything just a little bit more difficult, the city lights and billboards reflecting off of the water, making it hard for them to see if they had lost them or not. 

It wasn’t until they burst through the doors of his apartment, chests heaving from adrenaline and drenched in rainwater, that they had both looked down and realised they hadn’t let go of one another's hand the whole time, before looking back directly into each other's eyes.

Akaashi turnt away, going to grab towels as Bokuto heated up the take out. However that night, Akaashi hadn’t turned away as quickly as he usually would, willing to test his own boundaries a bit, _whatever that means,_ he had told himself. 

_Yet Akaashi still found his nerve endings setting alight, that feeling still not leaving yet._

That particular Thursday night, the city lights and the reflections in puddles seemed to glow just a little bit harsher and brighter than normal, Akaashi had found. 

Akaashi had long lost count of how many times that particular incident had occurred, and each and every time it awoke a deep rooted fear in him, always backing away, often leaving Bokuto confused, and he swears he can see a slight hint of sadness in those bright golden eyes of his.

“Here you are Akaashi!” Bokuto said as he pulled out the chair next to him and handed him his lunch. The place that they were at was called ‘Himawari’, and was Akaashi’s favourite place to eat at since it was a little cosy restaurant tucked away in the backstreets of the main city.  
Not only did it serve delicious food, but it was also hidden from most of the public. So when Akaashi had shown Bokuto last week about this place, he considered it a win, coming here everyday for lunch since. 

Bokuto handed Akaashi his meal as he tucked himself under the table, getting ready to dig into his own food. Bokuto had bought Akaashi his favourite dish; boiled rapeseed plant with karashi dressing, which Bokuto had soon come to realize was Akaashi’s favourite, along with onigiri which he was amazed by how many his assistant could scoff down one particular movie night. Bokuto on the other hand, had chosen a barbeque beef bento, his favourite dish from Himawari. 

With every passing day in the four weeks he had been working here, Akaashi had found himself becoming closer and closer to the top model. _Especially_ since last week.

Akaashi was becoming extremely _fond_ of Bokuto, and the rate of how quickly it was happening shocked him. 

He turned his head away from the window, and took this time to study Bokuto. Bokuto had also opted to stare out the window, although his eyes were seemingly out of focus, most likely focusing on the trail of raindrops streaming down the glass. It was a miserable and rather cold day, spring didn’t seem to be arriving early this year. 

But Akaashi found he didn’t care, meaning Bokuto always leant slightly closer to him for warmth, making Akaashi feel warm and fuzzy inside. 

Akaashi admired Bokuto’s side profile, studying his sharp features.  
_He has a cute nose,_ Akaashi thought to himself, having discovered that it always scrunched up when he didn’t quite understand something. _No no no, stop thinking those things._ Once he pulled himself out of his quiet berating, his blue eyes travelled up to his hair. Bokuto’s hair was limp today, the harsh rain having its effect on the gel, causing strands to droop over his forehead.  
_Hm, I wonder what it would look completely down,_ having not seen it in that state yet. 

_He wished he could run his hands through it._

Lastly, Akaashi found himself gazing into his eyes, which he always happened to find himself getting lost in, almost feeling as though the secrets of the universe were hidden beneath them. This close up, Akaashi could properly look into them, realising they had tiny flecks of green within them, complimenting the bright gold.

Akaashi was suddenly broken out of his train of thought, his eyes eventually coming into focus on the other man after hearing some mumbles. 

“Akaashi, are you okay there?” he heard Bokuto murmur almost timidly. 

_Oh right, he’s been looking at me this whole time._

Akaashi looked away so hard he swore he heard Bokuto wince for him.  
_Great, he probably thinks I've given myself whiplash. You’re so embarrassing, Keiji._  
He muttered out an apology to his boss, although he was absolutely certain his cheeks were flushed red to the tips of his ears. 

Bokuto laughed at his assistant, finding the latter quite cute. He also took this moment to repeat himself; “I was just answering your question from earlier, unless you had already forgotten that in your daydream too, Kaashi,” Bokuto said, quirking his eyebrows up questioningly, a large smirk on his face as he looked down at Akaashi. 

Akaashi looked at the model, glaring at him with his unamused expression, however the still fading blush on his cheeks caused it to lose out on it’s usually intimidating glare. 

Bokuto let out a burst of snickers, taking one glance at Akaashi and losing his own cocky resolve too. Akaashi stared at him in awe as Bokuto’s whole figure shaked from laughing so much. Akaashi really hadn’t thought it was that funny, but seeing as he was laughing at his own so called face trying to act intimidating, Akaashi started to chuckle at himself, joining in with Bokuto. 

After the laughter eventually died down, they both smiled and stared at each other. 

And that’s when Bokuto said it. 

“You know Akaashi, I’m really grateful you’re my assistant ya know,” Bokuto said shyly, the opposite of everything Akaashi thought he’d be. “I know we haven’t known each other for that long, and I don’t know if it’s just me but, I really like hanging out with you Kaashi. I’m glad we are friends outside of work.” 

Akaashi halted everything in his usually over running brain. His knee started to bounce up and down fast, and he bit on his lower lip so hard he felt the skin crack. 

He liked that feeling though, he found it grounded him in situations where no one else was there to help him get back up again. 

_That’s right,_ Akaashi told himself, _I finally have genuine friends that are there for me now. And it’s all because of him._

Ever so slowly, Akaashi eased the bouncing on his leg and released his lip from between his teeth. He glanced back up at Bokuto, the streaked hair man still looking at him, waiting for a reply. Akaashi saw the slight fear behind his eyes again. He really didn’t want to make Bokuto doubt himself when he’s done nothing wrong. 

_It’s just me. Always me._ Akaashi reprimanded himself. 

“I’m glad we are friends outside of work too,” Akaashi smiled slightly, feeling absolutely honest whilst doing it, meaning every word. “I’m grateful I am your assistant too, Bokuto-san, so thank you for interviewing me that day,” Akaashi finished. 

Bokuto’s mouth gaped open at the younger man, obviously thinking he wasn’t going to get that much of a response, worried he had gone too far seemingly again. 

He eventually grinned back, his usual sunshine brightness emitting from within him as he turned back to stare out the window, Akaashi doing the same, coming to finish eating. 

Bokuto decided to start up the conversation again after a few minutes of comfortable silence; “Anyways, answering your question from earlier Kaashi, I love window seats because I like watching the people outside going about their everyday lives.” 

Akaashi hummed in wonder, spurring Bokuto to carry on. “It’s just, I always wonder where they are going you know? Like what plans they have for the day, or if they got bad news or if it is gonna to be the best day of their lives without realising it.”

Bokuto paused for a second, thinking whether or not he should carry on; “Who knows, maybe they’ll even meet the love of their life today and they wouldn’t even know it.”

Bokuto chose to faintly look down at Akaashi whilst he was saying that, although the assistant wasn’t looking at him to realise. Bokuto quickly snapped his gaze back out the window, people watching again. 

Akaashi hummed, “I like people watching too, Bokuto-san. I always wonder what they are thinking or if they have any secrets that they can’t tell anyone. Or if they have someone to go home to at the end of the day.” 

It was then Bokuto’s turn to hum and nod, agreeing with Akaashi; “Yeah, that’s exactly it,” he said, but rather dejectedly. 

Akaashi pondered for a minute, wanting so badly to share his own secret, knowing that he could fully trust Bokuto, they were close friends, afterall. 

“Bokuto-san, can you keep a secret?” 

Akaashi always used to tell himself that if you can’t keep your own secret, then how do you expect others to keep it for you? 

But if anything had taught him so far during his friendship with Bokuto and everything he had gained out of it, it was that he found himself testing his own limits on the daily, not sure what to think about it. All he knew was that he couldn’t keep himself shut off from everyone, especially when every once in a while good people came around.

_I am not going to self contain myself any longer. Not when I have genuine people surrounding me._

Bokuto glanced at him shortly, eyebrows pinching in confusion before saying, “Of course Akaashi, you can trust me.” 

Akaashi nodded, knowing without a doubt he full well could. 

“Well you told me a little while back that if I told you the reason why I was so stubborn about becoming your assistant, then you would tell me why you gave me such a high pay that day you interviewed me.”

Bokuto nodded whilst smiling, the serious atmosphere stilling for a second, “Oh yeah! I did didn’t I?” Bokuto chuckled.

Akaashi rolled his eyes fondly, knowing Bokuto hadn’t forgotten the so-called playful deal they’d made that day in the office. 

Akaashi carried on, “Well, the night I got fired, wasn’t necessarily because of something that I did on _purpose_ as such…” 

Akaashi was doing his best to manage to look everywhere but into Bokuto’s eyes, his knee deciding to return back to it’s nervous and common state of bouncing up and down erratically. 

Bokuto noticed, narrowing his eyes down at Akaashi’s legs, not sure if he should cross his boundaries or not, instead just willing Akaashi to go on, that he wouldn’t say anything and everything was going to be okay. 

Akaashi nodded, feeling stupid before taking a deep breathe and carrying on.

“I-I walked in on Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san in a rather, compromising position…” Akaashi said, flushing once again in embarrassment. 

Bokuto looked at Akaashi, mouth agape. “Wait just to clarify, you mean they were having sex, right?” 

Akaashi glared at Bokuto, maybe not thinking it was a big deal to find your boss and coworker having it out on a desk. 

Akaashi sighed, “Yes Bokuto-san, that’s what I meant.” 

Bokuto smiled slightly, “Okay, okay I was just checking incase I got the wrong idea haha,” inferring Akaashi to carry on. 

“I didn't plan or mean for it to happen but, I decided it would be best to drop off some papers on his desk, ready for the morning and I didn’t realise he would b-be like that, I was just trying to be helpful since I know he tends to get up earlier than everyone…” 

Akaashi’s leg didn’t choose to slow down for a split second, making Bokuto realise this was a bigger deal than what he originally thought it would be. Why exactly, he did not know, but if it made Akaashi react like this, then he cared greatly. 

“Hey hey Akaashi, look at me, look at me properly,” Bokuto had said, Akaashi finally looking into the models eyes. “It’s not a big deal, what happened, happened, he chose to fire you for his own reasons, which I highly suspect why, so don’t beat yourself up for something you can’t control, alright Kaashi?” 

Akaashi nodded, but not before feeling the need as though he had to explain himself further still; “I get why he fired me, but I just don’t get why he should feel ashamed of who he is.”

 _Shut up you hypocrite,_ Akaashi told himself.

“He offered me money through Iwaizumi-san in order to pay me off, I get why it puts himself in a risky position because of the public and his job and for his company's sake, but surely he shouldn’t feel _that_ bad as to be that ashamed of himself, I am not gay myself, but _still._ I didn’t accept the money, but Iwa-san still managed to pay a fair amount into my bank.” Akaashi was rambling on now, his breath coming out in relatively short, mild pants. 

_You’re not even in the eye of the public or merely have the same amount of responsibilities as everyone else, yet here you are, still not being honest with yourself,_ he berated relentlessly.

Bokuto watched in shock, trying to take in everything Akaashi was saying at a million miles per second. He had his own questions floating around in his head, but figured it would be best to save them for a later date. 

He finally decided it was time to cross that boundary, wanting to help Akaashi. Something about seeing the usual calm and posed demeanor disappear not sitting right with him, not when he was acting like this anyway.

Bokuto reached out his hand, placing it firmly against Akashi’s knee; the bouncing coming to an immediate stop. 

Akaashi gasped, glancing up at Bokuto, his eyes already waiting to meet his own ocean ones. 

_“Akaashi,”_ Bokuto spoke ever so gently, trying his best to calm down his friend as much as he could. “Stop beating yourself up. None of it was your fault, you didn’t have to tell me if it was going to upset you that much.” 

Akaashi shook his head stubbornly, “Maybe it is selfish of me Bokuto-san, but I felt like I needed to tell someone that I could trust before my own thoughts took over me,” Akaashi murmured, eyes looking at Bokuto’s hand where it was resting upon his knee, feeling openly vulnerable for the first time in _years._

Akaashi hummed, the warmth radiating from Bokuto’s hand sending shivers up his spine, even through the fabric of his black slacks. 

Bokuto nodded, understanding. “Akaashi, i’m always here if you need to rant, okay? Plus you're a good man for not accepting the money offer in a situation like that,” Bokuto smiled reassuringly.

Akaashi finally pulled himself together, “Thank you very much Bokuto-san, but please forget I ever said anything. It’s not like I would understand anything to do with what he’s going through anyway, and it was really rude of me to have an opinion on it.”

_Another lie._

_Stop it Keiji, look at what you are doing to yourself. If only I wasn’t the way I was…_

Bokuto got up, his chair screeching across the floor, Akaashi winced, pulling himself out of his overthinking, almost as if the other man could tell. 

Bokuto smiled, “Whatever you want, Kaashi! Now come on, let's go and feed the ducks on our way back to the office!” 

Akaashi smiled, grateful for this man that had come into his life on a last minute whim, an opportunity for a job interview he vowed he would never take again. He knew Bokuto was doing this because he wanted Akaashi to feel better, and strangely yet, he had a feeling that Bokuto maybe understood from experience…

Despite the drastic turn lunch had taken, things were back to normal between them yet again, Bokuto laughing as a duck decided to sit right on top of Akaashi’s shoe, to which he didn’t want to move as he murmured, “I don’t want to disturb the duck, he looks comfortable.” 

Upon hearing this, Bokuto howled with laughter, unable to contain himself again at Akaashi’s cute antics, their shared umbrella shaking as Bokuto held it over them, Akaashi’s hair getting wet because of it.

Akaashi pouted at Bokuto, folding his arms in mock resent. Bokuto just smirked at him, saying his scowl didn’t work whilst he had that adorable pout on his face. 

The rest of the way through the park that led to the back of the Fukurodani Co, Akaashi couldn’t help but smile as Bokuto named every single duck, squirrel and any animal that came into sight. 

“Oh look look, Kaashi!” Bokuto had said whilst pointing to a black feathered duck with extremely bright eyes. Akaashi lifted the umbrella so he could see properly, Bokuto handed it to him a while back as they took holding it in turns. The duck in question had black tufts of feathers sticking up from it’s head as well, with a kind of blu-ish, green-ish shimmer and tint to its body. 

“What about it Bokuto-san?” 

“I’m gonna name that one Keiji! After you, Kaashi!” Bokuto had said, beaming at his assistant.

“Why is that,” Akaashi had asked, one eyebrow raised in wonder.

Bokuto smirked down at him, another thing Akaashi couldn’t tell whether or not he liked the effect it had on his body just yet, “Because he has a grumpy face just like you.”

Akaashi stopped dead in the middle of the pathway, causing Bokuto to carry on walking from under the umbrella. Bokuto yelped and jumped back, pouting at Akaashi. 

“That was mean,” he said with fake hurt. 

“What you just said was mean Bokuto-san!” Akaashi retorted back, deciding to carry on walking again.

“Look, it even has the same messy black hair as you!” Bokuto chuckled. 

Akaashi glared at him again, unamused expression setting on his face, although Bokuto knew well enough by now that his eyes said otherwise. 

That lunchtime, the welcoming petrichor of the rain seemed just a little more stronger and homey than usual, Akaashi found.

###### 

Bokuto had long gotten out of work, explaining he couldn’t come round Akaashi’s tonight as he had to help Kuroo out with a company problem. 

Which of course was a lie, not that Bokuto would tell Akaashi that. Bokuto just really needed to rant to someone, okay? So he figured the best possible person would be his best bro, Kuroo. 

After lunch when he and Akaashi had got back, as soon as Bokuto had pushed himself through the doors of his own office, Bokuto had sent off a series of texts to Kuroo;

> _Rooster head_
> 
> __
> 
> _> Hey Kuroo? Is it okay if i come round tonight,, i kinda need to rant ig?_
> 
> __
> 
> _Owl Bastard_
> 
> __
> 
> _> Yeah ofc bro, wanna meet at the usual spot?_
> 
> __
> 
> _Rooster head_
> 
> __
> 
> _> Yeah, thanks tetsu i’ll be there at 7_

###### 

And that’s how Bokuto found himself waiting on the corner of the street at 7pm, the rain only a slow dribble now. Bokuto had his handy black baseball cap on, just in case any fans were lurking around, his coat hood pulled over on top of it.

Bokuto was beginning to grow impatient. He knew it was only just past seven, and that Kuroo had a record of never turning up on time, but still. Bokuto felt really antsy and just wanted to talk to someone he knew would understand. 

Plus, whenever Bokuto had an existential crisis, the first person he would go to is always Kuroo and Kenma. 

_I think Akaashi is going to become one of those people soon…_ Bokuto thought absentmindedly. 

Bokuto exhaled, choosing to pivot on his spot and read the menu that was stuck onto the glass of the coffee shop he was outside of. He figured he could at least do something as simple as that if it passed the time and kept his own mind from over running. 

Without noticing the tall figure through the reflection looming behind him and tapping his shoulder, Kuroo frightened the life out of Bokuto, causing the owl-like man to jump out of his skin and nearly punch Kuroo. 

“Woahh calm down bro, it’s just me!” Kuroo had shouted back, scared that his face was going to end up black and blue. 

Bokuto huffed out a little growl, retorting back, “Well you shouldn't have scared me like that you cat bastard!” 

Kuroo pouted in offense, “Hey! Don’t call your best bro that, that’s unacceptable!” 

Bokuto tutted as they both turned around and started walking towards Kenma’s place, only a few blocks away from their meeting spot. 

“You call me owl bastard, airhead, owl with frosted tips, and many more things daily!” Bokuto shrieked back whilst listing them off his fingers. 

Kuroo gave his usual sadistic side grin, “Yeah well, that’s the fun of it,” he said. “You love me reallyy~” Kuroo cooed as he threw his arm around his best friends shoulders. 

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Bokuto murmured but with a smile on his face nonetheless. 

On the rest of the fifteen minute walk to Kenma’s apartment, Bokuto and Kuroo continued to mess and joke around, just being their usual selves and waiting to get their desired destination before Bokuto could rant about his feelings. 

That was always their routine, every time one of them needed to share something, they would meet at their usual spot, play around on the walk to Kenma’s, both preferring to wait until they were in the comfort of their own space, away from the public and everything else in the streets of Tokyo. 

Once they finally arrived at Kenma’s, _the shorter man just finishing off a live stream for the night,_ knowing he had an extra friend round which hadn’t happened in a while since Akaashi joined their group, made his way to the kitchen to make hot chocolate for them all. 

Bokuto and Kuroo took off their jackets and caps, hanging them on the coat rack just beside Kenma’s door, and also pulled their shoes off. 

No matter how many times Bokuto had stayed or been round Kenma’s, he was always amazed by the size of his apartment and the cool modernity of it. Although, it didn’t surprise him, seeing as he made millions a year, but still chose to live in a penthouse rather than a mansion. 

Bokuto couldn’t blame him, he thought penthouses were cooler than bigger houses anyways. Both he and Kuroo earned just about the same amount as Kenma, having their own big apartments themselves but not as big as the gamers. 

As you walked through the door of Kenma’s (which was on the top floor), it brought you out into a short corridor, of which said coat rack was displayed along it, before bringing you out into the main living room. The room was both massive and beautiful, with floor to ceiling windows lining the back, showing a mesmerising view of the humming city below. 

In front of the glass windows in the middle of the large open space living room was a single mantle pillar that connected from the floor to ceiling. Situated on this pillar was a large flatscreen TV, and lower was a fire place, giving off a cosy yet still modern vibe. Bean bags and two couch pieces were placed in no particular order in front of the fireplace. 

If you looked to your right, there was a large open plan kitchen, which had its own island and breakfast bar in the middle, just at the end of the living room space. If you were to turn your head to the left however, there was a longer corridor that went all the way back, where a bathroom, a guest room and Kenma’s main gaming room was. Slightly to the side in front of this hallway however, was a set of vast, metal and glass stairs, that led to the three upstairs rooms and two bathrooms. 

As much as Bokuto loved Kenma’s place, Bokuto came to a concluding opinion that it didn’t quite match up to the same feeling he got when he stepped inside Akaashi’s. 

For some reason, Akaashi’s place felt like _home_ to Bokuto, even the scent of it, finding he never wanted to leave, content to just stay there in his new favourite safe space for the rest of his life. 

And Bokuto was absolutely _sure_ that Kuroo felt the same way, but with Kenma’s penthouse instead.

 _Home._ Bokuto thought to himself. 

Kuroo and Bokuto made themselves comfortable, Kuroo taking his place on one of the long sofas, stretching his limbs out like a cat. Whereas Bokuto opted for his usual navy coloured bean bag, sock clad feet relishing in the fluffiness of the matching coloured rug. About five minutes later, Kenma padded over in his large red hoodie, _totally not Kuroo’s,_ headphones still round his neck as he handed the two models hot chocolate with whipped cream. 

“Awhh thanks Kenma!” Bokuto had cheered, taking a big mouthful of cream from the top, licking it from around his lips. 

“Thanks pudding head,” Kuroo grinned as he carefully took it from Kenma’s grip. He glanced at the hot drink, eyebrows knitted for a few seconds before calling out; “Oi! Where’s the marshmallows then?” 

Kenma rolled his eyes at Kuroo as he answered him, “Um I don’t know Kuroo, maybe you shouldn’t have scoffed them down last night and we would have some left,” looking down at kuroo in a smug way before sitting on the red beanbag opposite Bokuto. 

“Aww man, I forgot about that,” Kuroo said sadly, taking a sip of his marshmallow-less beverage. 

“If you’re complaining so much, maybe you should get up and get some from the store across the street,” Kenma replied, throwing a cushion at his face. 

Bokuto snickered at the rooster haired man, to which Kuroo was reminded of why Bokuto was here in the first place instead of Akaashi’s. When Bokuto does end up going to hang out with them, Kenma invites Akaashi round too, Kuroo and him agreeing that he is officially part of their close knitted group. 

Speaking of which; “Hey Bokuto, why isn’t Akaashi with you tonight?” Kenma asked intriguingly. 

Kuroo sat up at that, holding the cushion on his lap, serious mode suddenly switched on and all ears listening to what their best friend had to say. 

Bokuto averted his eyesight, choosing to focus on the deep blue of Kenma’s rug. _It’s almost as pretty as the blue in Akaashi’s eyes,_ Bokuto thought all of a sudden, a slight tint to his cheeks. 

Kuroo and Kenma must have noticed, but instead of Kuroo making fun of him, he convinced him to say what he needed to say.

“It’s really not that big of a deal, but I was just confused, and maybe even a little upset? I’m not even sure what to make of it,” Bokuto chuckled, the usual lilt of his laugh slightly faded. 

“Bo, what do you mean? Did something happen between you and Akaashi today?” Kuroo asked the other top model. 

Bokuto hesitated for a bit, nose scrunched up in unease, trying to decide whether or not he should be telling them, considering Akaashi had asked whether or not Bokuto could keep his secret, trusting him to do so. 

If only Bokuto’s problem hadn’t stemmed from Akaashi’s secret. Plus it’s not like he can’t trust Kuroo and Kenma, he’d trust them with his life if he had too. _Hm maybe not Kuroo,_ Bokuto’s mind joked. 

But _still._ He knew his best friends would understand more than anyone. 

_God damn it._

“At lunch today,” Bokuto had started to say, “Akaashi kinda freaked out. Well not really but he clearly wasn’t himself.” He glanced up then, Kuroo listening intently whilst Kenma had picked up his smaller game console and was playing on it. Bokuto didn’t mind, knowing Kenma was listening just as well. 

Kuroo nodded, “Bo, everyone has their off days, you should know that more than anyone else,” Kuroo said gently, having a small inkling that there was more to it than just that. 

“Exactly Kuroo, that’s the thing, I know I’m still getting to know Akaashi and everything but his reaction in that sort of situation was normal. It’s more of what he said, maybe I'm making a big deal out of it but something didn’t sit right with me,” Bokuto tried to explain best as he could, now rambling on himself. 

Without glancing up from his game, Kenma said; “What was it that he said exactly?” 

Bokuto paused for a second before carrying on;

“He explained why he got fired from Aoba Johsai, which I think Kuroo predicted,” Bokuto explained, trying to seem more lighthearted. 

“Let me guess, he caught Oikawa and Iwa-san fucking,” Kuroo said with the most ‘I did not see that one coming’ face as he could muster. “As subtle as Oikawa tries to be, I always see him staring at Iwa-san from across the room at events, but we all know why he can’t exactly show it off,” Kuroo said remorsefully. 

Kenma hummed, still pressing away at his controls; “Well yeah, if anything I think Oikawa-san might have it sightly worse with the whole being gay thing.”

Kuroo exhaled, laying back down across the couch again, hands folded behind his head whilst staring sympathetically up at the high rise ceiling. “Sucks to have your dad be the CEO of your modeling company,” Kuroo said as he pointed his finger at the ceiling.  
“That’s probably another reason why Oikawa resulted in firing Akaashi, he’s got the longest running company going, not only that but his dad practically raised him to be the top model for Seijoh. Talk about having a reputation to uphold among the media,” Kuroo whistled.

Bokuto smiled slightly, giving him a slight nod of his head. “Yeah, but it wasn’t just that. Akaashi explained after how Oikawa tried paying him off to keep his mouth shut about why he fired him, promising not to tell anyone, but Akaashi refused it.” 

Kenma paused his game, setting it down whilst grabbing his drink from the glass coffee table. “Well that clearly shows how much Akaashi is a good man,” he said, sipping from his mug. 

Bokuto perked up a bit; “That’s exactly what I said!” 

Kuroo looked at the golden eyed man questioningly before saying; “I don’t know, if it were me I would’ve accepted the money, I mean you’re still getting fired no matter what at the end of the day,” Kuroo said logically. 

“Of course you would say that Kuroo,” Kenma said with a little smile on his face whilst resuming his game again. 

Kuroo didn’t retort back that time, instead just choosing to watch the younger man intently, finding himself relaxed by observing how concentrated Kenma was whilst playing his game. 

“Yeah, I guess you have a point Kuroo,” Bokuto hummed in agreement, “In the end Iwa-chan ended up paying extra into his bank despite what Akaashi said.”

Kuroo chuckled, “Well then, he got something out of it at least. Plus I always have a point,” Kuroo smirked jokingly, choosing to glance at Kenma as he said it. 

Unfortunately for him, Kenma must have predicted it as his honey coloured eyes were already waiting for him, just so the obsidian haired man could see Kenma purposefully roll his eyes at him. 

_Why that cheeky—_

Kuroo’s thoughts were cut off, forgetting Bokuto hadn’t quite finished his story yet.

Bokuto’s mood instantly seemed to drop as he said what he was about to say next, eyes looking down at the floor mumbling something. 

“Akaashi also said that he wasn’t gay,” Bokuto said shyly, but almost as if he was more _let down?_

That’s when Kuroo decided to sit up abruptly once again, mouth wide open. Kenma also chose to pause his videogame, eyes glistening in slight wonder as he sat the console down next to his mug. 

“Wait what!?” Kuroo screeched first. “He seriously just came out with that out of nowhere? God Kou, what did you try to pull on him?” 

Bokuto rolled his eyes at him before raising his voice a bit, “I didn’t do anything! He was rambling on about why he got fired and how Oikawa shouldn’t be ashamed and how he didn’t understand it, _then just came out with it!”_ Even though Bokuto knew Kuroo was joking, he couldn't help but get a little flustered still. 

“How peculiar,” Kuroo muttered under his breath. “I mean fair enough if he isn’t but god, it wouldn’t surprise me if he suddenly leant the other way.”

“Kuroo!” Bokuto reprimanded his friend. 

“All I’m saying is no one who is straight looks at their boss like _that._ Oh and also buys them their favourite cookies everyday, and agrees to spend their break with them, and also hang out _every single night_ at his own place despite only knowing you for what? Four weeks?” 

Bokuto groaned, slumping down in his beanbag so his whole body was nearly on the floor, hands pulling at his hair in frustration. 

“Oh, and did I forget to mention how despite how much Akaashi seemed to hate this job and famous people, he took it anyway. And don’t you dare respond how it’s because you offered him a high pay, we _all_ know that’s not true, don’t lie to yourself,” Kuroo berated as he stared Bokuto down. 

“Kurooooo,” Bokuto groaned again, peeking at him from behind his hands. “It’s not my fault Akaashi came out randomly as straight to me. Why the hell do you think i’m going insane right now? I-I thought that he was m-maybe gay too,” Bokuto finished, going back into emo mode, cheeks flushed from what Kuroo had said beforehand.

 _Does he really look at me like that?_ Bokuto asked himself, before quickly pushing it away, remembering what Akaashi had told him earlier today. Why he was here now, ranting and rambling to his two close friends in a penthouse. 

_God I really need to get a grip._

“Hmm, even so maybe you and him are just destined to be best bros, just like me and you! We could be the ultimate best bro trio,” Kuroo grinned. 

This caused Bokuto to sink even lower into his bean bag, sighing loudly. 

Kenma took it as his turn to chip in; “ _Never_ say what just came out of your mouth again, Kuroo.”

Kuroo wiggled his eyebrows, smirking at Kenma, “Why are you jealous, pudding?”

Kenma sighed to himself, joining in with Bokuto. “No. It’s the fact you named it _‘Best bro trio’._

“I know right, I'm great.” 

That time when Kenma launched a cushion at Kuroo’s face, he didn’t miss, a loud thump resounding on the rooster haired model’s face. 

Kenma sickered behind his hand, unable to hold it in, even Bokuto sitting up a bit, chuckling at his best friend's misfortune. 

Kuroo didn’t even throw it back, instead deciding to just sit there and hug the cushion tightly against his chest, mock pout on his mouth. 

“Guyyssss stop flirting and help your bro out!” Bokuto insisted. 

Kenma shut up then, Kuroo smothering Bokuto with said pillow, “Oh yeah, we’ll help you out as soon as you admit you have a crush on your assistant,” continuing to smush the cushion against Bokuto’s face before it fell off as the streaked man sat up fully, pushing Kuroo back into the sofa. 

“I do _not,_ ” Bokuto huffed, crossing his arms in retaliation. 

Kuroo glanced at Kenma, gesturing his hand at Bokuto, “What do you think of this Bullshit, huh?” 

Kenma tutted at Kuroo’s harsh words, thinking through his reply before he said it out loud; 

“Bokuto, it’s okay if you like Akaashi, but the sooner you confront your feelings, the sooner they will go away.” Kenma glanced at Kuroo as he said that last part, Kuroo ultimately looking away as quickly as possible, playing it off coolly. 

Bokuto pursed his lips, _I know I haven’t known Akaashi that long, but he makes me feel things I haven’t before..._ Bokuto thought, scaring himself. 

He sighed, looking across the room and out beyond the horizon of the city, bright, glowing lights shimmering below them as he unfolded his arms. 

“Okay... _maybe_ I like Akaashi. But it’s not like I can do anything! He’s straight!” Bokuto insisted to his friends who were staring at him intently, almost as if they wanted Bokuto to carry on where this was going…

“It just doesn’t explain why Akaashi can make me _feel things_ I haven’t felt before. We’ve only known each other for four weeks and we get along really well! I like spending time with him, and I know he feels the same way. It still doesn’t explain those weird moments I get around him, especially when we are alone though.”

“What sort of moments?” Kenma questioned. 

Bokuto's eyes flashed, something akin to embarrassment shimmering in them. He turned his head to the side again, admiring the busy city whirring to life in front of him. “When we are alone, I’m not sure, there just seems to be this _thing,_ energy or something. We literally just stand there staring at each other until he pulls away. He always pulls away first…” Bokuto mumbled sadly. 

He carried on, determined to finish his point. “There’s been other moments too, but he always backs off, and it always makes me feel as though i've done something wrong. Almost as if he’s I don't know, holding back…” Bokuto groaned, running a hand through his already messed up hair, “Well, I understand why now,” he finished, chuckling remorsefully. 

Kuroo and Kenma glanced at one another before looking at their friend, looking as though he had become one with the beanbag so deeply sunken in it. 

“That, my friend is what I call _sexual tension,”_ Kuroo said, barking out a laugh as Bokuto groaned loudly and Kenma smacked him on his arm. 

However, Kuroo could see all the gears turning behind those kind golden eyes of his, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Nope, he wasn’t going to let Bokuto get himself in a deeper state than he already was. 

_“Bokuto,”_ Kuroo said without a hint of amusement, “Stop thinking that it’s going to turn out the same way as before. I know you’re obviously going to think the worst, but so far everythings going well. You said it yourself - Akaashi is the best assistant you have ever hired, you two already can’t be separated, and quite frankly, the rest of the guys at Fukurodani seem to agree.” 

Bokuto lifted his head up at that, looking at Kuroo suspiciously. “Oh yeah, and how would you know what they think,” he said accusingly, a glint of mischief in his eyes. 

“Because when I come to visit on my lunch break to pick a few things up, _which of course you are never present anymore, which i’m hurt,_ because you know full well I used to pay visits to pester you then,” Kuroo laughed jokingly, clearly understanding, “I have a little catch up with Konoha and the guys. And they _all_ seem to adore Akaashi, stating that there’s just this sense about him which they can trust, unlike the others where they immediately sensed something off with them,” Kuroo finished. 

Bokuto’s eyes glimmered with appreciation, “Of course you and Konoha were in kahoots, you two are like the worst people ever to put together in a room,” Bokuto rolled his eyes fondly. “And that kinda makes me feel better. I had my own feelings from the start that Kaashi was gonna be different, but look where it’s got me before. Regardless of my opinions or feelings, it always ends the same way.” Bokuto said gloomily. 

_Every single time they always end up walking out on me, leaving me._

Bokuto glared at his mug, knowing that maybe he was overreacting considering in the past it was only his personal assistant that had walked out on him, not a close friend or family member. But it wasn’t necessarily the fact they quit their job, or they were never close, Bokuto didn’t mind that, at the end of the day he just wanted someone he could rely on for his job. 

It was more the reason _why_ they had always ended up quitting. 

And it was _that_ which caused Bokuto to slump. 

###### 

_Two years ago…_

Bokuto was peacefully sitting in his office, arranging the order of his pen pots and plants in a more organised way so he could avoid opening and responding to emails. 

_Ugh,_ Bokuto thought, _I really hate one on one emails._

He sighed, figuring the more he put it off and procrastinated, the longer the chore of having to do them would weigh on his mind. 

He sighed, eventually mustering up enough motivation to open his email tab on his laptop. 

And that’s when he heard it, a little rap against his office doors. Knowing it was most likely his personal assistant, he called out to them to enter, most likely having the transportation schedule he so desperately needed to be arranged for the next morning, which they had already left until the last minute. 

Once the doors had opened and his assistant had placed themselves in front of their bosses desk, Bokuto tilted his head up at them. 

She was a rather petite girl, but anyone who looked into her eyes would almost feel as though she wanted to burn everyone alive. Why she had taken the job in the first place, Bokuto still didn’t know until this day. But at the time, he just thought she needed the money seeing as she was reasonably young. 

And well, Bokuto being the incredibly considerate person he is, gave her the job despite all the flaws in her application, thinking instead he’d be doing her a favour - It was a high paying job after all. 

So when Bokuto had looked up at her, expecting her to have the transportation fees and arrangements in hand, he was shocked at what she presented with him instead. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t be your assistant anymore. You don’t need to pay me for this month but I will be taking my leave as of today,” She had said, unable to look him in the eyes. 

“Oh,” Bokuto had responded, not understanding why she wanted to quit all of a sudden. “Do you mind me asking why?” He had said, kindness in his tone, ready to understand her reason. 

_Maybe she finally saved up enough money to do what she wants,_ Bokuto thought to himself. 

“I just...I can’t deal with it anymore,” she muttered, looking down at the lush carpet beneath her feet. “I’m sorry,” she muttered out a last apology before yanking her belongings over her shoulder, which she had already been holding, quickly making a dash for the door. 

“Wait!” Bokuto had suddenly stood from his chair.

“What do you mean?” He whispered into the now empty room, yet he had a full understanding of why. 

_Two months after..._

It had been a repeat. Except this time, the assistant he had hired was a man, and a rather obnoxious one at that. But still, Bokuto had put up with him if it meant someone could get the extra help he needed done. 

Being a top model wasn’t easy after all - Especially since Bokuto had only had that title for three months. Nonetheless, he basked it in, proud of how far he had worked his way up so far. 

He heard a knock on his doors, pulling him out of his daydream. 

“Come in!” Bokuto had called out cheerfully. 

But as soon as he saw the expression on his newly hired assistants face, worry quickly replaced Bokuto’s previous air of energy. 

His assistant had come marching up to his desk, roughly slamming down his notice form. 

“Here, I can’t take it anymore, I thought I could but I-I just _can’t,”_ the tanned male had said. “Y-you’re just too much. I’m out.” 

Bokuto watched as hurt pricked at his eyes, his assistant turning his back on him, huffing as he walked out of the doors shaking his head. 

_The next day, Bokuto hadn’t shown up to work…_

Over the next course of a few months, Bokuto had hired new personal assistants here and there, still determined despite the same recycle repeating as he stated over and over it wasn’t fair for Sarukui to have to handle too much. 

_How ironic,_ he remembered pathetically. 

And each and every time, he had fooled himself. Each and every time, Bokuto thought maybe, just maybe he would be able to keep his stupid mood swings under control. Even when he had the slightest slip up, or had one of his more downplayed _emo modes,_ whatever assistant he had hired looked down at him in disgrace. 

Almost giving him a look of; _‘You’re so pathetic, how are you even where you are right now? Look at you, getting upset and depressed at the most simplest of things. You’re so dumb and pathetic, how can you call yourself a man?’_

Every time an assistant had walked out, Bokuto didn’t come into work the next day, and the day after that, even having as much time as a whole week to finally gather up enough courage to walk into his workplace. 

Walking into his office, greeting his other team members, _no friends,_ he always had to remind himself, wondering of the pathetic man of a leader they had. 

_God I wonder why they haven’t even left for another agency yet,_ Bokuto thought, _even before I became a top model, they still always invited me out with them, insisting I am their friend and putting up with my moods._

Bokuto smiled wistfully as he sat down in his office that day, _at least I still have them and my other dork of a friends._

_Maybe I don’t need an assistant…_

Except despite telling himself that, for the next year and half Bokuto still hired assistant after assistant, each resulting in the same outcome. 

In January of this year, before he had hired his assistant that he had now, that’s when Bokuto finally snapped. His last employee hadn’t even bothered to tell him in person, instead had a rather sympathetic Konoha opening his door with a sticky note in one hand. 

He trudged up to his friends desk before placing it in front of him, and patted his shoulder weakly. 

“I’m sorry Bokuto, I really thought you had a good one this time,” Konoha had said, all of them obviously being proved wrong, _yet again._

Bokuto didn’t respond at first, just kept re-reading the scribble on the note over and over in his head. Torturing himself, almost as if reading it constantly would ingrain his misery and foolishness. 

Bokuto finally spoke up, albeit a little choked up; “Can you take over for a while? I need space and have to go see a friend.” 

Konoha had given Bokuto a gentle smile, knowing exactly who he was going to visit, hell he hung out at their company every lunch break. 

“Of course, you can always count on me,” Konoha had winked at him, trying to make Bokuto smile even if it meant Konoha being silly. 

Bokuto gave a short laugh, getting up to grab his stuff, reaching out to leave his office when a voice called out to him. 

“Bokuto!” Konoha shouted out to him just before he left. 

The owl-like man turned around, awaiting him to carry on;

“Never think it’s your fault okay? Cause it ain’t, and they are all stupid if they can’t see the kind, hardworking man they work for. Oh and also, remember you still have everyone else around you, Bo. If you ever need anything, we are here for you. Every single one of us.”

Bokuto smiled slightly, grateful for his friend's appreciative words before stuttering out a,“Y-yeah, I know. Thank you Konoha,” and with that, found himself walking to a familiar apartment. 

And that was how Bokuto had ended up at Kenma’s, already knowing Kuroo was inside too. 

As much as all of them hung out and joked around, there were just some nights that called for a chill night with your best friends, hot chocolates in hand and trying to cheer one another up. Bokuto didn’t even need to utter a word every time he showed up out of the blue, Kenma and Kuroo understood from the look in his eyes every time he ended up in this position. 

That night, Bokuto was convinced he never needed another personal assistant again. 

They gave him bad luck, afterall…

###### 

_Present…_

“Hey Bo, stop thinking about the past, that has nothing to do with now,” Kuroo pulled him out of his mindless stupor. 

Bokuto blinked back into reality, focusing on the two people in front of him. Kenma had returned back to his game whilst Kuroo was staring at him with those sly _‘I know exactly what you’re thinking’_ eyes. 

“I know, I know!” Bokuto responded in defense.

“Kuroo, stop glaring at him with _those_ eyes,” Kenma had said without looking up, knowing what he was up to. 

Kuroo huffed, “I’m just saying!” And raised both palms up in mock surrender.

Bokuto looked at Kuroo, having come to what he felt like was at least a reasonable conclusion;

“For now, I'm just gonna carry on like normal, being as everything is going better than it ever has before. Like, i’m actually able to hang out and be friends with them this time round!” Bokuto laughed lightheartedly. 

“It’s also too early to properly say anything about the way I feel, maybe i’m just imagining it as things haven’t been this great with an assistant before…” He continued, trailing off slightly. “I’m just happy at how everyone else seems to think he’s a good person, you guys are usually spot on with your predictions anyways haha, that and he _really_ is a great guy.  
But he is also straight so..” 

Bokuto hummed, the word _‘straight’_ tasting particularly bitter on his tongue when he pictured Akaashi with that signature side smile of his behind his eyelids.

_His ocean blue eyes…_

Bokuto grunted, knowing it’s best if he just sucked it up and got over it already, _It’s not normal to like someone that quickly anyway,_ Bokuto reminded himself. 

_Yep, just definitley a stupid, meaningless little crush. It’s probs just cause i haven’t had this good of a friendship with an assistant before. That and a reliable one,_ Bokuto reasoned in his head, just mistaking it for relief and gratitude. 

Kuroo chuckled, “Yeah it’s nice to be able to have a new addition to our little group, don’t you agree pudding?” 

Kenma nodded, “Yeah, he’s understanding and I can actually have a conversation without it feeling like a dead end. It’s nice,” He said without looking up once from his console. 

Bokuto grinned, feeling better about the whole situation. “Thanks you two! I knew I can always rely on you,” he said as he got up and popped the bones in his body. “Well it’s late, I better get going!” 

“Yeah of course, well i’m glad we could be of some reassurance,” Kuroo told his best friend, smacking his hand on his back as he stood up to show him out.

“You know you’re always welcome,” Kenma said, “Next time, bring Akaashi along since he’s one of us now.”

Bokuto grinned in delight, pulling his coat over his shoulders. “Yeah of course Kenma! Thanks for the hot chocolate, it was great as usual!”

Just as he was about to make his leave, Kuroo’s phone pinged rather loudly in the hallway. He un-pocketed it as he opened the door for Bokuto, reading the notification as his eyebrows drew together, feigning annoyance. 

“Bro, what is it?” Bokuto has asked, knowing that particular sound was set for only one news alert on all their phones. It was stupid, it really was, but it was handy to have considering their careers and the people they knew. 

It was a news notification from a pathetic website called _‘Last spotted in tokyo’_ where all pictures uploaded by the media could be seen, letting the public know where a famous person within the region was last sighted. 

It was more of a gossip page to cause rumours than a sadistic way to get your idols autograph though, causing all sorts of mischief and misconceptions with people they knew. 

That's how they learnt to never take the paparazzi so lightly. 

They both let out a harsh sigh as Bokuto read the headline; _‘Tokyo's top models Bokuto Koutarou and Kuroo Tetsurou last spotted heading into the entrance of an apartment together late at night’_

Neither of them could even be bothered to read the article that was underneath, both knowing it spouted bullshit rumours and lies. But this was what the public and media thrived off of afterall, it was part of the deal for all the advantages you got out of being famous they supposed. 

“Bro knock them out if they catch you on the way home,” Kuroo told him jokingly as he walked through the door. 

Bokuto rolled his eyes,“Yeah yeah, whatever bro,” chuckling at the other man's harsh words, knowing he was obviously joking. 

_They are a pain in the ass though,_ Bokuto reminded himself. 

He waved as he was fully out of Kenma’s penthouse, and made his way to the nearest elevator before Kuroo waved goodbye, shutting the door as Bokuto got in. 

He looked at his disheveled appearance in the mirror as he placed his trustworthy baseball cap over his head. 

That night as he walked home, all Bokuto could think of was unamused expressions, wavy black hair, and piercing blue eyes. 

_Shit. Please go well for me…_ he thought selfishly. 

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0 !! Also look forward to some main Kuroken next chapter,, i'm so excited for what i have in store ;) ...


	4. Deeply Screwed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait,, but for some weird reason although this was one of the chapters i could'nt wait to publish for you guys, i found myself repeatedly stopping and taking breaks after writing like just 5 lines everytime. But in the end I pushed through, just going back to all your comments makes me extremely grateful,, thanks to the support from my three friends on this fic too,, as usual, you know who you are!
> 
> I also wanted this to come on Kuroken day,, as they are the focus this chapter,, But it turns out it's Akaboku day, so I guess it worked out well huh?! Happy late Kuroken day, and happy Akaboku day!  
> ~ Much love, Bon <3
> 
> But yeah,, I was not lying when i said i couldn't wait to publish this... ;)

__

_When it comes to love, you're an easy fight  
A flower in a gun, a bird in flight  
It isn't fair and it isn't right  
To lead you on like it's all alright_

__

__

__

_I played with your heart  
And I could treat you better but I'm not that smart  
You still mean everything to me  
To me  
But I wanna be free_

__

__

__

_I'll ruin, yeah, I'll ruin you (I'll ruin you)  
I've been doing things I shouldn't do (Things I shouldn't do)_

__

__

__

_~ I’m A Ruin, Marina_

__

__

_  
_

###### 

Bokuto had left the penthouse about fifteen minutes ago before both Kuroo and Kenma finally decided to clear up and wash the now empty mugs. Kuroo got up from his place on the sofa and yawned whilst stretching his limbs out, which also happened to make his black, cotton shirt ride slightly above his jeans, giving a short display of taught and defined hipbones and stomach muscles. 

Kenma pretends like he wasn’t staring, snapping his head directly back to his game console before realising he had died. _Well, that’s what staring at Kuroo’s abs gets you,_ he supposes.

“Hey treacle, this is your apartment so why do you always make me do all the work, eh?” Kuroo stared down at the gamer with one of his eyebrows arched high and a large smirk plastered on his face. 

_God, how much Kenma wanted to say he absolutely hated that look, but it was actually quite the opposite._

Kenma sat his paused game down and rolled his eyes as he lifted himself up out of his beanbag, and swiped all three mugs roughly at the same time from the glass coffee table. 

“You might as well live here with the way you act, so don’t act like you can’t help tidy up as little as three mugs,” he told the top model with an annoyed tone. 

It definitely was _not_ because he was flustered all of a sudden. Nope. Not at all. 

Kenma distracted himself out of his thoughts and made his way over to the kitchen, Kuroo padding behind him and placing himself so his tall, lean body is leant against the counter from where Kenma was washing the mugs. 

Kenma couldn’t see the point really - it only took him a few minutes after drying them and placing them back into the cupboard before he made his way back to the front room, but this time taking a seat on the sofa he knew Kuroo wanted to lay on, reaching over to grab his console and focusing his mind on it again. 

He swears he wasn’t being petty. 

Yet Kuroo still followed him and plopped down next to Kenma, even though there was still another whole sofa he could lay on available next to them. But instead of getting annoyed at Kuroo, he found the latter cute, almost as if it was a cat that followed you everywhere you went. 

Kuroo decided to grab the TV remote and endlessly flicked through the channels, never able to decide what to watch until ages after. It was a habit Kuroo had since he was a kid and Kenma always nagged at him for it, unable to stand the constant change of sounds. It was as if your head was being dunked in and out of water repeatedly. 

Yet Kenma didn’t quite have a go at him enough for Kuroo to snap out of it just yet. 

After about ten minutes of nothing but the channel hopping and little ‘pews’ and ‘pows’ emitting from the youtubers console, Kenma decided to speak. 

Without glancing up from his game, he said, “I feel as though he is hiding something.” 

Kuroo looked down beside him, eyebrows pulling together and lips pursed, “Who Bo? Nah, he’s just worried as usual,” Kuroo responded. 

“No, not Bokuto, Akaashi.”

That’s when Kuroo made the decision to turn the TV off completely, it’s not like he could decide on anything anyways, and he was much more intrigued by what Kenma had to say instead, wondering what he meant. 

“Oh yeah, why's that then?” he said, eyes focused on watching Kenma play his game, but he paused it instead, and looked into Kuroo’s eyes before saying;  
“I really like Akaashi, you know that, and he’s definitely cheering Bokuto up, but I just feel like there’s something about him that he’s choosing to hide from us. Like something he is keeping to himself.”

Kuroo gasped dramatically and clutched his hand against his chest, “Do you think he’s murdered someone?! Or even better yet, a serial killer?!” 

Kenma stared at the rooster haired man for a good few seconds in what could only be described as a ‘are you kidding me’ look, then nudged Kuroo with his shoulder, knocking him off balance slightly from where he sat forward.  
“Don’t be stupid, you know what I mean Kuroo,” Kenma mumbled, resuming the console yet again, but this time his whole attention wasn’t soley on it.  
“Plus what do you mean by ‘even better yet’, you weirdo,” he finished in a hushed tone.

Except Kuroo knew exactly what the younger man was trying to say, “Yeah yeah, I know what you mean. You reckon there’s something he’s not sharing with us, but it’s also not that deep for us to worry or care? You’re ever the analytical one, aren’t you pudding?”

Kenma rolled his eyes, “Yeah well you know what i’m like,” then continued to mumble under his breath something along the lines of, “Plus you love it.” 

Kenma was pretty sure that Kuroo still managed to pick up what he had said if it was anything to go by the slight tint on his cheeks. And he was also sure that he had a much more prominent blush on his own ear tips.  
But it wasn’t as if Kenma said it to be cocky - he felt as though he was plainly stating a fact. 

_Well, maybe he said it to be a little bold, but who could blame him?_

Kuroo didn’t choose to say anything back, instead smiled softly as he divided his attention onto watching Kenma play, trying not to lose himself to his thoughts. 

_I really hope Bo is okay, I can’t see him get hurt like all those other times and fall down that self destructive rabbit hole of his,_ Kuroo thought to himself. _At least I hope it’s not that deep._

Kenma picked up on the top model's fallen mood all of a sudden, noticing the mischievous gleam gone from within his brown eyes. He sat down his console, switching it off for the rest of the night, and turned to face Kuroo from his position on the couch. 

“Hey Kuroo,” he tried to call for the taller man’s attention, but it didn't come. Instead Kuroo opted to stare straight ahead, his face rather emotionless and devoid of any signs or feelings. 

But Kenma knew better. He had grown up with him after all, meaning he had to put up with all of his annoying, pestering self. But it also meant he knew how to read him the best out of anyone. 

“Tetsu, look at me,” he tried again, knowing that Kuroo was trying to calculate everything in that overworking brain of his to make sure he didn’t see his closest friends get hurt again. Get hurt the same way they always did. Meaning, he was worried about Bokuto.

At the sound of his given name shortened on Kenma’s tongue, Kuroo decided to turn his head around to face him. He really couldn’t understand why he was like this all of a sudden  
\- Bokuto had a moment earlier yeah, but he came up with a logical reason straight after and perked up into a better mood.

“You have nothing to worry about with Bokuto, Kuroo. He’s perfectly fine, it’s just a little crush that he isn’t even sure is real that is playing on his mind. Plus, he has Akaashi now, and even you were raving about how he’s a nice guy and good for Bokuto.” 

The model’s mouth tilted upwards slightly on one side, showing subtle signs of him coming back to his original self. 

“Yeah yeah, I know, Akaashi is great, I don’t know what’s gotten into me, myself. I think I'm just stressed about work amongst other things,” he says, his smile still faint. 

“I hope it wasn’t because of what I said about Akaashi, cause if so forget about it, I really didn’t mean for it to sound so deep, it’s just a feeling. You know how I get,” Kenma said quietly, looking down at the small space in between their bodies. 

Kenma could practically feel the warmth radiating from his body to his own just from this far.  
He really wanted to get closer…

 _Don’t be stupid Kozume,_ he told himself. 

“No, really it’s not what you said earlier, I'm just being an idiot again,” Kuroo murmured. 

All of a sudden Kenma felt a slight shift towards him on the sofa, bringing his line of sight straight into Kuroo’s warm, brown eyes. 

_Oh._

Ever so slowly, Kuroo decided to lean his forehead further and further downwards towards Kenma’s own. Realising Kenma wasn’t moving away, the rooster haired model finally rested it against the shorter’s, ultimately coming to a stop when they were both connected, Kuroo’s eyes staring down at wide honey ones. 

“K-kuroo,” Kenma breathed, “What a-are you doing?” Surprised by the sudden change in atmosphere. 

Not that Kenma was complaining, but it was just rare for Kuroo to act like this. He only did it spontaneously and Kenma had a love hate relationship with it. 

But he knew no matter how badly he wanted it to last, it could never be the case. 

Kenma leant away, albeit ever so slightly, making sure he could still feel the warmth of Kuroo’s breath on the tip of his nose from this particular angle, his face turned away from the model’s. 

Kuroo lifted his hand up, barely brushing it across Kenma’s cheek, making him shiver and look at the taller man, gradually feeling himself gravitate to press his forehead against his own again, missing the warmth. They stared into each other's eyes, anticipating what was going to happen next.

Kenma’s breath was rapidly increasing, and no matter how hard he willed it to calm down, it just began to increase. 

He _hated_ the way Kuroo had control over him, and the way it rendered him motionless. 

Kuroo had him pinned like this, although their bodies themselves weren’t fully touching, it had Kenma shivering down to the bone, the older models fingers brushing up and down the contour of his cheek. 

Kenma gasped, loving the way it tickled him and set his nerve endings alight at the same time.

Kuroo trembled as he heard that sweet little sound make it’s way past the gamers lips, his eyes travelling down to stare at them. 

Kenma’s whole face was on fire; he wanted so badly to pull away, but felt himself grounded to the spot where he was sitting.

“Tetsurou,” Kenma whispered, the slow ministrations on his cheek not stopping, “We can’t do this, it’s too risky.” But Kenma didn’t help his cause, making the decision to place his own hand against Kuroo’s larger one, holding onto where it was placed upon his face. 

“But I really want to,” his lowered murmur sent shudders throughout the smaller man's whole entire being.  
“No one can see us, kitten,” he answered to Kenma’s previous statement, Kuroo’s other hand travelling down to Kenma’s hipbone, his thumb pressing in small circles there, mimicking his hand gesture.

“You know that’s not what I meant…” 

Kenma trailed off, relaxing under Kuroo’s actions, his eyelids drooping slightly in contentment before realising what the other man had called him…

 _Oh,_ Kenma reminded himself, _he only ever calls me kitten when he’s about to—_

His thoughts were suddenly cut off, knowing what was going to happen as soon as he called him by the nickname only reserved for when things got a little more serious. 

Kenma’s eyes shot open, feeling a warm mouth pressed against his own. He hummed, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before realising what had just happened. He pulled away, but only to press their foreheads together, both of their heartbeats fluctuating wildly out of their chests. 

Such a simple, innocent kiss had Kenma feeling as though his heart was in his throat. But that’s what it always felt like when it was Kuroo who was acting upon him. 

_And he also knew he had the same effect on the top model…_

“Kenma,” Kuroo gasped, hooded eyes watching every small movement on Kenma’s face. Kenma bit down on his lip, Kuroo’s hungry eyes following the action. Just that itself sent Kuroo crazy. 

Kenma shifted his whole body, kneeling on the couch to accommodate Kuroo’s posture against him more comfortably.

“This is such a bad idea,” he mumbled, but leaned upwards to connect in another kiss anyway, wanting more. He wrapped his arms around the taller man’s neck, pulling him down so he had a better advantage.

The hand that was on his hip travelled downwards, Kuroo’s burning hand resting on top of Kenma’s thigh, whereas his other hand grabbed hold of Kenma’s chin, returning the kiss much more deeply. 

Kuroo bit down upon Kenma’s bottom lip, earning him a soft moan. 

Kenma felt intoxicated. Kuroo’s smell filled his senses, part of his mind on the way his thumb was brushing on the inside of his clothed thigh, the pressure on his chin as it tilted upwards, and suddenly feeling _way_ too hot in this giant hoodie of his. 

They kissed each other passionately, almost as if they were both trying to savour every second, every taste, every little gasp they drew out of each other before it came to an end.

_Which of course, it always did in the end - but not in the way Kenma liked. Not in the way either of them liked for the matter._

Suddenly feeling the urge for more, Kenma moved on top of Kuroo, partially breaking the kiss so each of his thighs was placed either side of Kuroo’s own, the rest of his weight in the models lap. They remained still for a few moments, the room filled with pants and quick gasps for air before Kuroo pulled Kenma back down, hands gripping onto his thighs, holding Kenma in place on top of him. 

The sudden shift in pressure against Kuroo’s crotch had him moaning out, the heat and friction between them mesmerizing. 

“Kenma,” Kuroo moaned, feeling the man on top of him shift his weight down just at the right angle for more friction, repeating the move.

Kenma took this as his turn to slowly drag his tongue along Kuroo’s bottom lip, the other man complying beneath him and parting his mouth open, running their tongues against each other. 

“Mhm,” Kuroo practically purred, “Kitten…” Kuroo wanted, no _needed_ more, opting to run his calloused palms underneath his hoodie, _god,_ seeing Kenma walk around in his own clothes swallowing him whole _did_ things to him. 

Kenma shivered, burying his face into Kuroo’s neck and pressing open, wet mouthed kisses there, and brushed upwards across the model's sharp jaw, to which his breath hitched as he gasped. 

Just as Kenma made a move to press his lips against Kuroo’s again, he felt his body still beneath him, his warm palms suddenly coming to a halt up and down Kenma’s muscles, ultimately removing themselves from under the hoodie. 

Kenma whined at the loss of contact, but was cut off when he looked at Kuroo’s face. His hands weren't resting upon his thighs either, Kenma thinking that’s where they were going to rest again, but were laying limply on top of the sofa instead.

“Kuroo…?” Kenma whispered, almost as if he was trying to coax a cat to come out of a hiding spot. 

Except Kuroo’s eyes were dull, focusing on something past Kenma’s shoulder, not bothering to meet his eyes.

 _Oh no._

He knew that look all too well, having become very familiar with it up until this point. 

Kenma’s heart dropped as Kuroo gently lifted Kenma up, the latters hands falling from where they were gripped in his messy black hair, shifting to the side so he could place Kenma down on the couch next to him.

Without making eye contact still, Kuroo lifted himself up, making his way over to the door to pick up his shoes and coat, not even having the effort to pull them on as his hand reached out for the door handle. 

He could feel the gamers eyes prickling into the back of his head, _like they always did,_ when he was too ashamed to be brave enough to look properly back at him. 

His hand stopped mid air, and Kuroo turnt his face ever so briefly to the side, but still not enough so he wasn't looking directly at him, like the _coward_ he always was. 

_“I’m sorry,”_ Kuroo’s voice whispered, careful as to not break anything, _“You were right, it was a bad idea,”_ and with that last breath uttered into the space between them, Kuroo left, Kenma staring sullenly after him, even after the door clicked shut. 

Kenma tried not to let the tears slip down his face…

###### 

_Eighteen years ago…_

Kenma had been playing on the latest version of a game console when he heard a knock at his door and his mum calling for him to come downstairs. 

Kenma huffed, finding it extremely rude that he had to pause his game in the middle of a fight - _which he was winning,_ up until now. 

_Who could it possibly be?_ A young Kenma found himself thinking. It’s not like he didn’t have friends, but they never came knocking for him, all obviously realising by now how much Kenma hated socialising and playing out like most kids his age. 

Instead Kenma found he loved being hulled up in the safety of his home, in his bedroom playing all the games he could until his heart was content. 

As he eventually made his way downstairs, the warm summer breeze flowing throughout the hall from where the door was open, Kenma could roughly make out a small figure, although as he made his way to the front and clutch onto his mum’s leg to hide behind, he soon realised that he was slightly taller than what he originally thought. 

With the sunlight filtering from behind the boy standing in front of him, who was also clinging onto his own dad’s leg, Kenma couldn’t make out what this taller than average, mysterious boy looked like. 

That was until his mum invited his father in for coffee, suggesting she’d tell them what you need to know about the neighbourhood and who to avoid and who to become friends with, Kenma figuring out they must have just moved in next door. 

“Oh, pardon for my rudeness Miss Kozume, but this right here is my son, Kuroo Tetsurou,” the boy’s father affectionately ruffled his hair, although it had already looked as though he had been dragged through a bush backwards.

Kenma’s mum laughed, bringing her hand to place upon her son’s own head who was still trying to clutch onto her leg, “This is my son, Kenma Kozume,” she introduced. “And please, call me Homura,” she smiled reaching out her hand to shake the other man’s. 

“In that case, call me Hansuke,” Kuroo’s father shook Homura’s hand in greeting. 

She pulled back, opening the door further to long at last get started on that pot of tea to chat over. Before doing so however, Homura crouched down and whispered something into her son’s ear. 

“Hey Kenma, why don’t you take your new little friend upstairs and show him your bunch of video game collections, huh?” 

As much as Kenma was opposed to that idea, he figured he’d have no choice seeing as Hansuke and his mum were trailing down the hallway further and further by the minute. 

Leaving just Kenma and Kuroo staring wide eyed after them. 

They eventually turned their heads to look at each other slowly, almost comically in a way they were synchronised, and at that, Kuroo let out a quiet giggle behind his hand, blushing at embarrassment. 

Kenma stared wide eyed back at Kuroo in front of him whilst murmuring, “It’s okay,” bowing his own head a little in awkwardness. 

God, he really hated interacting. He wished his mum wasn’t so kind to invite their new neighbour in for tea. 

They stood there staring at their bare feet on the warm wooden floor before Kuroo finally mustered the courage to say something; “Um, i-if it’s okay with you, I wouldn’t mind seeing what games you like to play?” 

Kenma perked up at that, usually his other friends touched his consoles without permission or begged him to lend it to them, which is exactly why Kenma didn’t have many friends round either.

Yet instead of Kuroo insisting they’d play together - which respectively any normal kid would, Kenma thought that maybe Kuroo could already sense what kind of kid Kenma was himself.

Kenma gave a small smile to the floor, looking up at Kuroo and responding, “Sure,” and led him upstairs.

As soon as Kuroo trudged from behind into his room, his mouth opened in awe.

“Woah! Kenma-san, you have so many cool things!” Kuroo said, albeit still shyly. 

Kenma smiled again, this time feeling it reach his eyes a little, “That’s what everyone says,” he responded, eyes glimmering as he saw Kuroo take in all his consoles and games he had displayed on his shelf. 

It wasn’t before long that they were both sat at the foot of Kenma’s bed, cross legged and giggling like the children they were, Kenma not feeling as though he hadn’t laughed so much with another kid his age in his entire life. 

He was beginning to think he liked Kuroo, he was really hoping that their parents downstairs would finish quickly, _the quicker, the sooner he could be left in peace,_ but as each minute went by, Kenma found himself enjoying the company of the messy haired boy, Kuroo Tetsurou. 

Without noticing that the sun was beginning to set through the windows, Kuroo’s father called out from downstairs.

They were in the middle of a game, competitively battling it out before they had to pause them and turn them off, both pouting that they hadn’t been able to see who would have won.

As they made their way downstairs, they both clinged immediately back onto their parents legs, even though they had just spent the last two hours giggling non-stop upstairs. 

As their parents shook hands and said goodbye, Kenma watched from his door as they made it safely back into their own new house, directly next door to Kenma’s own. 

As Kenma and Kuroo got into their bed that day, they both had goofy grins plastered on their faces.  
Although neither would know it, they both fell asleep that night mirroring each other in their own bedroom, albeit one garden apart.

The next day, and as much as Kenma hated to admit it, he was on edge, hoping there would be a small knock from a certain rooster haired boy, finding it rather easy last evening. Yeah, both Kuroo and Kenma shared awkward moments where neither of them knew what to say, but at least they had a fair respect and understanding of each other and also had things in common, even if it wasn't much. 

In Kenma’s eyes, that was thousands of leagues above what he and his _acquaintances_ had, always feeling as though he was forcing himself to hang out with them - which is why he eventually stopped altogether in the end. 

Suddenly, there was a little rasp at the front of his door. 

His mum swore she’d never seen Kenma move so fast, unless it was out of excitement for a new game, but here she was, watching from the kitchen as her son took off on his little legs, running down the hall to open the door enthusiastically. 

Kuroo froze, surprised by how quickly the door opened, but also managed to drop the volleyball he was holding in the process. 

He took off after it, running to the front gate as he tripped over and finally caught it, a little nervous laugh coming out of him as he made his way back over to Kenma.

Kenma let out a short “pfffft” behind his hand, not trying to seem rude but finding the latter incredibly funny. 

Kuroo held the volleyball up high in one hand, almost as if he was presenting Kenma with a crown. “Would you like to play volleyball with me?” 

And as much as Kenma _absolutely_ was _repulsed_ by sports, he found himself nodding along anyways, following kuroo to the small but still wide enough walkway between their houses which was a sort of makeshift garden, just throwing the ball back and forth and making idle conversation to get to know each other better. 

By the time the sun started to set, the sky a magnificent hue of bright oranges and streaks of pinks and purples, their parents called them in for dinner. 

Except before they went in for the night, Kuroo cleared his throat nervously, seeming way mature than his seven year old self for a second, and stuttered out a question from where he was standing in front of Kenma. 

“U-um Kenma-san?” Kuroo shifted anxiously on the spot, “W-would you maybe, I don’t know, Want to be my friend?” he finished, his free hand scratching his head and his eyes averted up to the sky.

Kenma stood there shocked. He never thought he’d had anyone before that _genuinely_ wanted to be his friend, or ask for the matter. 

“Yeah, I would like that,” Kenma answered, quickly adding as they parted, “You can just call me Kenma.” 

Kuroo gave him a boyish grin, his cheeks and kneecaps smudged in streaks of dirt, although Kenma knew he probably looked about the same. 

“Okay, well in that case you can call me Kuroo! Just Kuroo,” he grinned as he got to his door, and Kenma found himself smiling the brightest he ever had at another person his age. 

For the first time in ages, Kenma felt as though he had found a real friend. No doubt the messy haired boy felt the same, seemingly just moving into a whole new neighbourhood, but already felt welcomed more than anything all because he had found a friend to play with.

Over the next few weeks, Kenma and Kuroo had a routine of taking it in turns and knocking on each other's doors every evening before the sun had fully gone down. During that time, they got to know each other better, Kuroo even starting the same school two weeks in. Although he was a year older, they still hung out during lunch and break, and even walked to and from school together.

They learned each other’s favourite foods and films, and also what each of them hated or found uncomfortable. They found themselves opening up to each other, both of their parents noticing how they were becoming less shy and more open to new things in their own household lives.

And that’s how at the ages of six and seven, Kenma Kozume and Kuroo Tetsurou finally found the first person they could call a _friend._

_Best-friend._

###### 

_Present…_

Kenma understood that fame and social media could get in the way of personal lives and many other aspects of things, and also how it got in the way of people being who they really were. He also understood the difficulties of it, being a famous youtuber himself and being best friends with them. 

But he also understood how it could eat you from the inside out, plague and haunt you and how it could make anyone feel unworthy.

Fame wasn’t all what it was cut out to be. 

Kenma felt a pang in his chest, wincing as his eyes were only watering now, but still pinned to the door from where he was sitting overlooking his sofa, expecting a tall, dark haired model to saunter back through it.

Except that didn’t happen. 

Fame scared people away from who they really were, yeah, but it wasn’t just fame. It was your own personal demons or life problems that could push things down, and lock secrets and ill feelings deep into the depths of your mind, hoping to never be found or discovered. 

And everyone had them, Kuroo and Kenma no different from anyone else. 

But he also knew he had great people surrounding him, and he and Kuroo always helped each other get through the darkest of things.

They _loved_ each other after all. Both of them knew it. 

Although that eight letter phrase hadn’t been uttered, whispered, told to each other in _years._

Kenma threatened the tears to spill again. 

It was the same endless cycle, but it hadn’t always been like this at one point during their lives. Everytime they felt the need to be closer in the way they both knew deep down they couldn’t have, in a way that was bad for them, they pushed over that boundary anyway, both unable to stop themselves and not each other. 

And it always got resolved the same way too, in the way that Kuroo would be back round Kenma’s place tomorrow, or two days at most, acting like nothing ever happened and going back to their usual selves. 

Kenma wanted to be free.

He wanted to love Kuroo freely. He yearned deeply for it. But he knew it was all a far fetched fantasy of his, only just barely slipping through his fingertips from what they both wanted. 

Sometimes Kenma didn't understand, and he was pretty sure Kuroo didn’t understand his own reasons either, but when questioned, Kuroo shut off completely, things becoming unbearable between them.  
So that’s how Kenma stopped learning to ask. 

_He also wouldn't let himself get in the way of losing Kuroo’s career again..._

Everyone had their own demons, and sometimes, _just sometimes,_ being there and trying to understand wasn’t enough.

_Even when it came to those closest to you…_

That night as Kenma got into bed, he had the sudden thought that his penthouse seemed way too cold and empty without a certain rooster haired model the next room over, snoring ever so loudly.

Tonight he figured, he'd just have to make do without.

###### 

Akaashi was sitting on his sofa, mindlessly watching a TV show he recorded the past week whilst munching on some leftover onigiri Bokuto had bought for dinner the night before. 

He sighed, not paying much attention to what was flashing on the screen in front of him, but rather thinking about the empty space next him, where Bokuto should be sitting, chatting about the randomest of things and laughing, making stupid comments about the show or movie they had chose to watch. 

He was also thinking about the upcoming events and everything he had to do to prepare for it. With the upcoming Nekoma and Seijoh events, his mind was occupied with a mental checklist at every second of the day, his apartment practically covered in sticky notes. 

There was also something else plaguing Akaashi’s mind...Something that when he had got back from lunch with Bokuto that Washio had chosen to ask him. Not that it was a bad thing as such, but just caused his mind to try to provide an answer that would seem a little more believable. 

_Plus, all the best lies were half truths, right?_

Washio had asked him as he sat down at his desk earlier in the afternoon about why he chose to accept the interview and work for Fukurodani if he so called hated this particular industry. It seemed like everyone knew that Akaashi wasn’t a fan of certain people, _quite literally,_ but at least they knew he considered them his friends this time round. 

Here’s the thing: Akaashi had never really given it much thought until today, with what happened at lunch with Bokuto and then Washio turning around to ask him that when he got in. Akaashi’s go-to excuse for the past month had always been something along the lines of; “Oh, I just needed the money to carry on attending my literature studies and further education classes,” - which wasn’t a _lie._

It was the truth. Even when he had accepted the job from Oikawa all those months ago, it was because one of his friends he worked at the library with saw him struggling to make enough money, and wearing himself down with all the part time jobs he had to take in order to keep attending them. 

And the last thing he wanted to do was to quit, so when his friend told him that Aoba Johsai were looking for an assistant, he thought, why not? Apparently his library friend had a close associate who worked within the industry too, and mentioned that they should go for it themselves. But _Tadashi yamaguchi_ was always the kind, selfless person he was, and told Akaashi that he was happy to just carry on in the library. His art classes were already paid for so he told Akaashi to stop worrying and just _‘Go for it already’._

So Akaashi had turnt up, and a week later, got the job. He already had his opinions on the industry, but back then they weren’t as bad. 

_Well,_ that was until he saw for himself that famous people were obnoxious, rude, ignorant snobs. 

So after he had got fired, he promised himself, _never again._

So he thought. 

So yeah, when he got the job recommendation from Iwaizumi, who is good friends with Bokuto, he begrudgingly turnt up at Fukurodani’s doorsteps, got the job _straight away,_ and now found his opinions becoming less and less stereotypical. He also got a good few friends out of it so far, too. 

But that was the story he had told up until now. That he needed the money for his classes. And he did, he wasn’t lying when he told Washio that today. 

And even as he got on the train home tonight, and thought about everything that had happened today, he found his mind over ridden with thoughts such as; _But it wasn’t just that, was it? Something else had pulled you in to accept the job almost straight away…_

Which he was still trying to push to the back of his mind even now, scoffing down his favourite snack, watching a new show he was hardly paying attention to. 

That’s when Akaashi’s phone went off, lighting up the dark room, only the TV flashing colours of light and shadows in the room, cutting his thoughts off.

Akaashi laughed as he read it, a warm feeling spreading throughout his chest as he did;

_Although that was another thing that had been happening a lot lately..._

> _Bokuto-san_
> 
> > _Kaashi, did you know that when an owl flies, you cant hear their wings flapping like all the other birds?!_
> 
> _Akaashiiii Keiji_
> 
> > _No, I did not, that’s very interesting._
> 
> _Bokuto-san_
> 
> > _IKR! It's cause they have these cool feathers or smthing that breaks down turbulence, idk Kuroo can explain the science side of it,, im not very good at that part haha_ :) 
> 
> _Akaashiiii Keiji_
> 
> > _Nevertheless, it’s still very cool that you know all these facts about Owls, Bokuto-san._
> 
> _Bokuto-san_
> 
> > _Well ofc, they're my favourite animal afterall!!_

###### 

Akaashi broke another soft smile at that, Bokuto already knowing they were also Akaashi’s favourite animal, too.

Right then, his ringtone went off, showing Bokuto calling him. 

As soon as his phone lit up, Akaashi answered it straight away. 

“Hey hey hey ‘Kaashi!” 

Akaashi could already practically hear the nervousness dripping from Bokuto’s tone. 

“Hi Bokuto-san, is everything okay?” 

Bokuto gave a little anxious chuckle, “Yeah everythings fine! Here’s the thing, I was actually wondering if I could, I don’t know, maybe come round?” 

He phrased the end of his sentence shyly, just in case Akaashi didn’t want him to come round tonight considering Bokuto had already told him that he couldn’t make it as he had to help Kuroo out, but he was walking home and thought he’d give it a go and ask anyway.

What’s the harm in trying?

“Bokuto-san, stop acting so nervous. And please come round, I’m actually really bored and could use the company,” Akaashi said with a little chuckle. 

“Plus, it’s just like any other night when you come round,” he added on.

Bokuto gave a little laugh at this himself, realising that was in fact true; “This is why you’re the best ‘Kaashi!” 

Akaashi could hear all the cars zooming past Bokuto in the background, hearing splashing noises along with it. He got up and went over to his windows to pull the curtains open, realising just that minute that it was pouring it down outside.  
And Bokuto was out in it, probably freezing to death to make his way over to Akaashi’s. 

Akaashi reprimanded him; “Bokuto-san! It’s pouring it down out there, please hurry up and get to mine as quickly as you can,” he said, trying not to sound as commanding as he was, considering it was his boss he was talking to. 

_Who also happened to be his boss he spent most of his time with in a close friend way,_ but he pushed that aside, thinking that his tone didn’t matter by now. 

Bokuto chuckled lightheartedly and at the same time, he heard his apartment buzzer go off. 

“Good job I was here five minutes ago then,” Bokuto chuckled, a little bit embarrassed.

“I can hear that,” Akaashi snickered, “and that’s still as bad Bokuto-san, that means you've been standing on the spot for longer,” Akaashi told him matter of factly. 

“Yeah yeah, are you my mum now ‘Kaashi?” Bokuto jokingly made fun as he was climbing up the stairs, Akaashi practically _picturing_ the smirk he had on his face right now. 

Akaashi flushed a little, and gave an abrupt “No,” hanging up on him.  
_Bokuto will be here any second anyway,_ Akaashi thought, trying to find an excuse so he wasn’t being as petty as he seemed. 

Bokuto walked through the door then, Akaashi leaving it open as he let Bokuto in from downstairs a few seconds beforehand. 

Akaashi was standing a few feet away from the door, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised in a _‘I told you so’_ look. 

Bokuto had already shut the door, coming to stand a few steps in front of it, removing his shoes and shrugging his soaked jacket off his shoulders, all whilst sporting a massive pout on his face, and sad puppy dog eyes as he came to a standstill in front of Akaashi.

His hair was also completely down, the thrashing rain washing all the gel from it. 

Akaashi was looking at him as if he were a disappointed mum that had just witnessed their three year trudge mud all over the house.

Ever so slowly, Bokuto looked into Akaashi’s eyes and gave a lopsided smile, and Akaashi let out a snort, finding their whole predicament quite funny. 

Bokuto burst out laughing, commenting on the way Akaashi snorts whenever he finds something hilarious and can’t hold back, Bokuto mentioning this a week ago.

Just the memory of what he had said caused Akaashi to blush like mad. 

Bokuto took this as his opportunity to carefully walk up to Akaashi, holding his arms out as though he was afraid he might run away.

Akaashi started to back up however, starting to realise just what Bokuto was up to. 

He uncrossed his arms, taking careful steps back from the hallway, making it past the open plan kitchen and over the threshold of where the carpet started in the front room, all whilst trying to not look behind him and keeping a serious, unamused expression on his face. 

Bokuto was grinning like mad, _the devil,_ and Akaashi was _so going to have him after this._

“‘Kaashiiiii!” The owl-like man said, grinning mischievously as he was approaching his assistant more and more boldly. 

“What Bokuto-san?” Akaashi huffed out, trying his best to remain unfathomed.

“Don’t you want a hug~,” he pouted, raising his eyebrows whilst asking the question.

Akaashi scoffed, “It’s hardly professional to give each other hugs, Bokuto-san, plus you’re drenched, I’m not falling for your devious tricks.” 

Bokuto gave a short laugh, “Well if you say so,” his voice going back to playful, “Guess I’m just gonna have to do something worse then.” 

The back of Akaashi’s legs had already hit the arm of his couch, and that’s when Bokuto pounced on him. 

The highly strung tension was broken, Akaashi’s back falling the rest of the way onto his sofa, Bokuto on top of him and attacking him with tickles. 

Akaashi burst out into fits of giggles, _actual giggles,_ unable to control himself. 

Nobody particularly knew this about Akaashi, but he was very _very_ ticklish. 

Bokuto was above him, tickling him all over his stomach through his bed shirt, relentlessly using his hands on Akaashi's stomach area, causing him to jolt up and nearly headbutt Bokuto more than three times. Bokuto aimed to tickle him on his neck, trying to figure out exactly where this man was ticklish the most, treasuring and locking up the fact that _Akaashi Keiji_ was this affected and ticklish in the first place was groundbreaking enough for Bokuto. 

Akaashi couldn't stop laughing; he reached up to grab onto Bokuto's wrist to stop his hand from moving against his neck, trying to block out the thought that it was _his boss_ sitting on top of his hips leaning over him right now, becoming more red faced than what he already was, pushing the thought away immediately. Except that didn't stop Bokuto there. He raised his other hand from Akaashi's hip, going to tickle behind Akaashi's ear. He tried to grip onto the model's wrist, showing Bokuto just how strong he was himself. 

Bokuto gave up trying to aim for places where Akaashi could use his upper body strength to his advantage, instead sitting back on his heels, Akaashi finally thinking this torture had stopped, taking this time to hit his neck against the couch arm.

Ultimately, Akaashi's head didn't stay down for long. He upper half immediately whipped upwards to where Bokuto was attacking his hips _again,_ making Akaashi suffer more. He knew by now that Akaashi was particularly sensitive there; he saw it just a few minutes ago from the way it made him jolt and thrash about, apparently nearly head butting Bokuto multiple times wasn't enough to deter him just yet. 

Akaashi was red faced, panting and out of breath from how the owl-like man had reduced him to nothing but putty below him; he couldn't stop the giggles and shrieks leave his mouth, no matter how hard he tried. This is why Akaashi didn't _dare_ tell anyone about this little fact hardly anyone knew about him.

Bokuto stopped for another few seconds, then slyly directed his eyesight down to Akaashi's feet, before leaning back enough to make his hands reach. 

As soon as Akaashi realised where his next aim was, he let out an ear pitching screech;

“No! Bokuto-san!” he said through hysterics and pants, trying to regain his breath, “Please not there, please Bokuto-san I—” 

Bokuto cut him off, “Oh yeah ‘Kaashi~ why’s that then? Is that where you’re most ticklish hmmm?” he raised his eyebrows and smirked knowingly, blowing strands of hair out of his eyes. At this moment, Bokuto took the time to admire the view below him. Akaashi was spread out on the sofa, messy hair even more mussed up from thrashing about against the arm of it, clothes rumpled and his face the brightest red he had ever seen; his chest heaving in order to breathe properly again. 

Bokuto blinked. He tried not to let the fact that he was sitting on top of his assistant right now get in the way of how childish they were being; but seeing Akaashi completely worn out with a look of bliss on his face made Bokuto's stomach do somersaults. It was also the first time Bokuto had seen the man look completely unguarded and carefree; he wanted to see more of this side to him so much it made his heartstrings hurt.

 _Oh I am so going to get back at him for this one day,_ Akaashi thought venomously. 

Except his thoughts got cut off, Akaashi practically yelling as though he was about to get murdered. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if Doris from next door rang up the police for him, bless her. 

Bokuto was snickering like a maniac, thoroughly enjoying torturing Akaashi, reducing him to pants and fits of giggles and screams.

After five more minutes, Bokuto finally stopped, showing him some mercy.

Akaashi sat up, arms crossed and his trademark tired expression put on as he looked away from Bokuto, red faced as he tried to catch his breath; “What on earth was that for Bokuto-san!” 

Bokuto laughed, “I was trying to prove a point, is all Kaashi.” 

Akaashi looked at him, narrowing his eyes and hissed out; “And what exactly is your _point,_ Bokuto-san?” Now also wet from the rain. 

Bokuto leant his back casually against the couch, looking at him whilst saying, “That you don’t have to act so professional all the time, we’re friends inside and outside of work, remember?” he raised his eyebrows at Akaashi.

Akaashi’s eyes widened, obviously he had known for a few weeks now that Bokuto and the rest of Fukurodani are his friends, even people like Kuroo and Kenma. 

So why he kept acting so professional in front of them outside of work baffled him. Yeah, he’d always been a polite person, but still! He can owe it to them to open up a bit more than just knowing everyone's favourite things. 

Akaashi smiled softly, tilting his head as he said, “Yeah you’re right, that was pretty funny Bokuto-san. _I am_ going to get you back for that one day, though,” he said, smirking as he lifted himself up to grab a drink for Bokuto.

Bokuto scoffed; “I’d like to see you try!” following Akaashi into the kitchen area. 

He came back shortly after; handing the model his melon soda. “Hey Bokuto-san, if you haven’t eaten yet you can finish the rest of the onigiri off, i'm not hungry anymore.” 

Bokuto’s grin lit up his face, appreciating the thoughtful offer, “Are you sure? It’s still your dinner.” 

“Nah, go ahead, you’re the one who bought it anyway,” Akaashi told him matter of factly.

“Thanks Kaashi!” And with that, gobbled the remaining up, both content to focus on the show Akaashi had been watching beforehand. 

After an hour, Akaashi had noticed that Bokuto had moved so he was sitting rather close to Akaashi; closer than normal - not that he was complaining by any means, but it was just something that he couldn’t help but notice. 

That’s when Bokuto dropped his head onto Akaashi’s shoulder, shutting his eyes. 

“B-Bokuto-san? Are you tired?” Akaashi asked, trying to ignore the stutter in his words. 

_God what is constantly up with that?_ He thought bitterly to himself. 

Bokuto hummed, mumbling a slurred, “You’re more comfy ‘Kaashi. I'm only gonna shut em’ for a few mins cause they ache.” 

Akaashi chuckled, “Fair enough, but please try not to fall asleep, you still need to get home to get a proper good night’s rest Bokuto san.”

He looked down at the model's face; his eyes were shut and his cheek was squished against his shoulder, his hair that he had so badly wanted to see down in its natural state, fanning everywhere over his forehead and Akaashi’s sleeve. 

_He’s so adorable like this,_ he let his mind slip, seeing Bokuto quiet and vulnerable making his heart ache a bit. 

Bokuto’s eyes fluttered open, tiredly gazing up into Akaashi’s, whose eyes widened at suddenly being caught staring. 

_The second time that day._

“Ya know Akaashi, you’ve got really pretty eyes,” Bokuto slurred, on the edge of dozing off. 

Akaashi played it off coolly, “Thank you, you already told me this a few weeks ago, Bokuto-san,” trying to laugh lightheartedly.

Bokuto’s eyes slipped shut again, his voice much quieter as he said; “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I can’t remind you every now ‘n then.” 

Akaashi blushed harder at that, not knowing how to respond, fully wishing he could pay Bokuto back in a compliment too, _knowing he could,_ but didn’t. 

_He didn’t like to think about why he chose not to._

That, and he was pretty sure when people chose to speak on the brink of sleep, it made you sound like a drunk person spilling out all your thoughts. 

Out of all the things Akaashi was expecting to come out of Bokuto’s mouth next, or at all for the sake of probably being asleep, it was not what he was expecting next. 

_At all._

Or maybe Akaashi saw it a long time coming, _but really? Right now of all times?_

Akaashi thought he could probably kick Bokuto-san right about now. 

“Kaashi, you d’know i’m gay, right?” he murmured idly. 

Akaashi’s breath stopped for a second. Or at least he was pretty sure it did. 

“Well I think it would be wrong of me to assume your sexuality, but thank you for telling me Bokuto-san,” he smiled softly, not sure of how he should particularly approach that. 

It’s not like he could have just been blunt and said; _yeah, I kinda figured but thanks for confirming it!_ Or something along the lines of; _No I didn’t, but that makes my life for better or for worse!_

So he figured he’d just go with what he said. He knew already, considering within the industry he worked in he was pretty sure Bokuto was already out, along with Kuroo. He knew Kenma was out properly to all his fans, but with Bokuto and Kuroo he thought it was a bit different. 

_But obviously different from what Oikawa-san’s going through,_ he reminded himself. 

_Well, it’s now or never._

“If you don’t mind me asking Bokuto-san, but are you ‘out’ to all your fans or the media yet?” Akaashi was rather curious, so he thought he might as well just ask. 

Bokuto let out a few tired sighs, “Mhm, that’s complicated, but maybe? Kuroo too, Kenma’s already ‘officially’ out or whatever you call it on his youtube channel. But me and Kuroo, and a few others too I guess, we’re out to _each other,_ but not necessarily to our fans or media.”

Bokuto sighed again, Akaashi a little thankful he had at least woken up a tad more to answer fully;

“It's a difficult one. You work for an industry where most of your fans either accept you cause they love and respect you, or know it themselves, or they disagree and hate on you. The press is the same. I think that’s why it’s all kinda unspoken between us, we’re all just respectful throughout the companies, and if fans speculate it, they can. But until there’s an official ‘I am okay with publically coming out’ when each of us decide, it still has to go through our agents first.” 

Akaashi looked at him with heartfelt sympathy, “I am so sorry Bokuto-san, I can’t believe you have to have a conversation with your manager to see whether you’re allowed to tell the media, that should be a basic human right.” 

Bokuto huffed, “Yeah well, I guess they’re scared in case the company gets bad press or goes downhill. But still,” the model perked up a bit happily, “fans can speculate, and most of the time they’re either way off or spot on. It’s quite hilarious actually when you look on twitter and tumblr tags. Plus they’re the type of fans that will still support and love what you do, so there’s that I guess.” 

Akaashi nodded, understanding Bokuto, and he guesses everyone at the companies had the same point of views too, whether they were gay or straight. But still, he couldn’t help but notice it was far from fair. 

He hoped that would change soon. 

After a few minutes of silence, Akaashi realised that Bokuto had actually drifted off to sleep on his shoulder, his light snores filling the room. 

Akaashi smiled, but couldn’t tell whether it was out of sadness or happiness.  
_I’ve got to wake him up soon,_ Akaashi thought, _he’s still got to get home for work tomorrow._

As much as Akaashi probably should've woken Bokuto right there and then, his not so rather subconscious thought of, _Just a few more minutes_ over took everything else. 

The _‘few more minutes'_ becoming _one more hour._

Akaashi watched the owl-like man sleep, studying all of his features like he did at lunch today, fully being able to appreciate everything about the man before his eyes. 

His heartbeat started to increase again, his mind analyzing and dissecting everything he had been told tonight.

Akaashi rubbed his hand over his face, groaning quietly in order to not wake Bokuto up. 

_How on earth did I even get myself into this situation? Oh that’s right, you just had to go to that interview, didn’t you Keiji?_

But right now, gazing down at the model that was asleep on his shoulder, he knew regretting meeting him - and everyone else through him, was the last thing he was wishing. 

He just didn’t understand why he could be _so freaking naive._

He tried his very best to push everything he was feeling right now away, locking it all in the deep depths of his mind like he had been doing for the past god knows how many years. 

_Something he was very good at._

So why _now_ of all times was it not working? 

So why _now_ of all times was he failing himself?

Why was it that it was _him_ feeling vulnerable right at this moment? 

As the clock ticked by for the remaining hour and the top model slept peacefully on his assistants shoulder, dreaming of stormy oceans and skies that matched a particular set of eyes, little did he know of the inner war raging on inside the latter’s head next to him. 

_I am so screwed._

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, I hope you enjoyed it thoroughly! Every chapter I have favourite lines from each one haha, this particular time it was; Although neither would know it, they both fell asleep that night mirroring each other in their own bedroom, albeit one garden apart.  
> Idk,, there's just something so comforting about it?? haha
> 
> also Kenma's mums' name Homura means, light and flame, which i found fitting as when i picture her, i imagine her blonde hair bright in the sun,, especially in this flashback scene haha.  
> kuroo's fathers' name Hansuke means, helpful or assisting friend, which i just thought seemed fitting in general :)
> 
> also special shoutout to my friend, duru who is the greatest beta reader ever, and always giving me things to add to make it even better!!
> 
> Tell me what you thought, i'd love to know! Kudos are also appreciated!! Until next time, ~ Bon <3


	5. Push & Pull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling in love with Akaashi challenge : Failed. 
> 
> By Bokuto or us, you decide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the chapter being two weeks late... :/ *Winces*

_Don't you care what people say.  
Looks like we've been moving backwards.  
Nothing running through your head.  
Like a comatose lover, I can't get through to you.  
This love is overdue.  
I don't remember pulling away,  
Why can't you show me what you won't say?  
Can't you feel my touch?  
Cuz it seems like you've been faking.  
Can you feel my heart?  
Do you know how much it's aching?  
Don't you care what people say._

_~ Comatose, RKCB_

###### 

It was the night before the Fukurodani and Nekoma crossover event for Vogue Japan.  
So far in the last three weeks, everything had been going relatively well for Akaashi, having now been part of Fukurodani for a month and a half. 

For the past month, Akaashi had gotten himself into a routine that came naturally to him, as though he had been working for Fukurodani Co. for months and friends with everyone in it for as long as he could remember. 

Akaashi could honestly say he had never smiled or laughed so much before in his whole entire life. 

_And_ that was what he was doing right at this very moment. 

Akaashi was doubled over, eyes creased shut, his lungs heaving for more oxygen and his stomach and jaw hurting so very badly from how he couldn’t stop laughing. 

It was Monday the 20th of April, and much to Bokuto’s and Kuroo’s excitement, they decided that they should all have a movie night in their pj’s to get even more hyped up for the following morning.  
It was also Akaashi’s first time at Kenma’s penthouse. They wanted to have a sleepover, but figured they still had to go to work in the morning, so opted to wearing pj’s and everything else that came with a sleepover, just with no - well, _sleeping_ at the other’s house. 

_Not that they are grown men in their early twenties but whatever. They are having fun, okay?_

So here he was; not being able to breathe properly as Kenma started re-telling embarrassing stories from their highschool days. 

Kuroo was laying on his designated spot on one of the sofas, his whole entire body length covering it. Kenma was sunken into his red beanbag as usual, and Bokuto had claimed the navy blue one opposite him. Akaashi resulted in sitting on the floor with his back against the couch where Kuroo was laying. 

“Dude!” Kuroo heaved out with laughter, “I still can’t believe that time where you knocked over the science labs test tubes, and the acid literally _dissolved_ into the table, what were you thinking?!” 

Bokuto let out a few chuckles before defending himself; “Hey! It’s not my fault that I got barged into! People should look where they are going!” 

Akaashi let out a few laughs, Kenma watching with a slight smile on his face before he decided to chip in himself; “the fact that you even remember that makes no sense to me,” Kenma said.

Bokuto and Kuroo hummed, the owl-like man stretching his arms above his head and yawning, “Yeah, I’m surprised I even remember that much myself to be honest,” he let out a few chuckles. 

“Yeah, it’s because you’re lacking docosahexaenoic acid, I always told you back then you needed to eat more fish, look at you now pudding, not even being able to remember the best moments of your life!” 

Kenma rolled his eyes, contemplating whether or not he should throw his pillow at Kuroo’s face. 

Akaashi looked at Bokuto with his eyebrows furrowed, as if to say _what the hell is Kuroo on about?_

Bokuto must have got the message as he responded, “Don’t worry Kaashi, Kuroo’s just being the science nerd he is, ignore him before he starts lecturing you!”

Kuroo sat up, looking down at Akaashi and pointing to him, “Oi Akaashi, don’t ever get into a car crash alright? Cause the air bags are packed with sodium azide which is _really_ toxic.” 

Akaashi just stared back at him, eyebrows furrowed, “But why would they do that if they are put there to help you in the first place…?” Akaashi asked back, a confused tone in his voice. 

“Nah I’m just kidding! That’s just what makes the air bag puff up, the toxic gases dissolve harmlessly into the air!” Kuroo explained, waving his hands in the air as if to demonstrate.

Akaashi nodded, “oh, that makes more sense,” turning back around to face Bokuto and Kenma. 

Kuroo layed back down again, arms folded beneath his head as he tilted it to look at Kenma.  
Kenma was staring at him with a worried expression, eyebrows furrowed like he was almost telling Kuroo to shut up. 

Luckily Bokuto and Akaashi didn’t notice, Kuroo whipping his head back round to stare up into the ceiling, knowing he probably shouldn't be joking around about people getting into car crashes. 

Bokuto and Akaashi were carrying on the previous conversation, “So is it true Bokuto-san that you met Kuroo and Kenma in your second year of highschool?” Akaashi was curious, thinking that it made sense as the three of them got along so well and knew almost everything about each other. 

“Yeah, my parents got a deal that caused them to move to that specific area, so we had to move in my second year. But it’s okay, the only thing that I actually liked in my old school was the volleyball club! Luckily I still had that when I joined in my second year.  
That and I had also met Kuroo the year before at nationals and practice matches so I got lucky!”

Kenma smiled as Kuroo laughed and mocked him again, retelling even more embarrassing stories from their highschool days together. Akaashi enjoyed listening to what they all did together, finding it really interesting. 

Akaashi had learnt that Bokuto had gone through a phase where he had braces, really bad acne and had to wear glasses all the time because he could never see the whiteboard from where he sat at the back, and this was also where Bokuto wore his hair down in order to cover up the worse parts of his forehead. 

He also learnt that Kuroo had once fallen asleep during spanish because he stayed up all night revising for a chemistry test, only to be startled and cry when the fire alarm went off. 

Whereas Kenma hardly had any embarrassing stories to tell, them all being recounts of his two best friends' mischief and misfortune...

“Except there was that one time where that guy on our volleyball team stole my gaming console,” Kenma added in.

Akaashi’s eyebrows shot up in shock, “Really? Why did he steal it?” he asked.

Kenma shrugged, “To this day we still don’t know, maybe he didn’t even have a reason.”

Akaashi gave a slight nod of his head, “Mhm, sometimes people are just awful like that, having no particular reason.” 

Kenma nodded in agreement, Bokuto perking up in front of him as he huffed his chest out to try and make himself seem better. “Yeah, but luckily me and Kuroo found the bastard and returned the console to Kenma!” Bokuto said proudly. 

Akaashi smiled, looking at Bokuto as he said, “Oh, really?” 

There was something about the way Akaashi had smiled at Bokuto that made the top model flush slightly, whipping his head around to avoid eye contact. 

Kenma smiled and let out a little grateful laugh, Kuroo turning his head to watch the gamer speak, “Yeah, if it wasn’t for Kuroo and Bokuto being in the locker room that night, I probably would have had my face smashed in. I saw my console sticking out from his bag as he was getting changed, so I confronted him about it.” 

“Except being the sneaky prick he was, he wasn’t going to just return it that simply. Little did he know everyone hadn’t gone home yet and me and Bo were waiting for him outside the room, we thought Kenma was taking a little too long to grab his stuff,” Kuroo finally gave his input. 

“Yeah!” Bokuto said, “that’s when me and Kuroo went in, only to see that the thief had Kenma by his collar. Let’s just say after me and Kuroo dealt with him, he didn’t turn up to volleyball club again.” 

Akaashi hummed, “Well at least you got him off your team _and_ the console back, that’s two wins, and none of you three were hurt.”

Kuroo nodded, “I never liked that Daishou guy from the start, come to think about it.”

Kenma huffed, “Yeah, me and Bokuto both know that, considering how you never shut up about him and how he was a snake and how his girlfriend could do better.”

Bokuto laughed, “Yeah yeah, well at least your gut instincts were right Kuroo!” 

The rooster haired model smiled, a thoughtful look on his face before saying, “Hey would ya look at that, we’ve all finished our drinks,” Kuroo sat up and yawned, “I’ll go and make some more.”

Kuroo was just about to get up, but Bokuto beat him to it, getting up and lightly pushing his best friend back down by his shoulder, “Nah don’t worry bro, I’ll do it!” 

“Awh thanks bro!” Kuroo shouted as Bokuto made his way past the furthest couch and into the kitchen, the owl-like model looking over his shoulder and shouting back;  
“Yeah, totally not cause you take forever making them!” 

Kuroo let out an offended screech before shouting; “Yeah whatever, just get on with it would you!” 

Akaashi and Kenma let out a few more quiet laughs at their joking manners whilst Bokuto was shuffling through the cupboards. 

“Hey Kenma?! You’ve ran out of hot chocolate _and_ marshmallows,” Bokuto informed him as he turned to lean against the breakfast bar looking in their direction. 

“Kuroooo,” Kenma whined, choosing now to smack the pillow over his face, “You said you stocked up yesterday for treats tonight.” 

Kuroo puffed his cheeks up with air before letting them deflate, contemplating his answer; “Yeah...about that, I um, kind of ate all the marshmallows again last night…?” 

Kenma stared at the obsidian haired male un-appreciatively, “Is that a question or an answer?” he told Kuroo with a hint of frustration in his tone. 

Kuroo rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, “An answer?” he said warily. 

Akaashi couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as he watched his friends' antics. 

Bokuto let out a chuckle himself and pushed himself off the counter, “It’s no problem, i’ll just go to the shop across the road and stock up for you guys,” he said as he made his way to the corridor where his coat and cap were hanging. 

Kenma thanked Bokuto gratefully, Kuroo telling him to hurry up and buy extra marshmallows before getting a muffled reply again as Fukurodani’s top model shut the door behind him. Bokuto figured out Kenma most likely hit Kuroo in the face with a pillow again. 

And with a chuckle, he made his way to the ‘stop n go’ convenience store across the road. 

That left just Akaashi remaining in the penthouse with his two famous friends. 

Kuroo grinned mischievously, Akaashi already regretting not offering to go with Bokuto. 

“Soooo Akaashi, we haven’t really had much one on one talk without Bokuto since that day in the restaurant a few weeks ago, huh?” 

Akaashi nooded, turning to face the top model as Kuroo sat up once again. 

“Yeah, that’s very true,” Akaashi said, because it was. Everytime he hung out with Kuroo and Kenma, Bokuto was with them. But it’s not like Akaashi was _complaining_ \- not at all. 

But it was also nice to be able to hang out so normally with the other two men without the person who introduced them being there. It just made the situation seem more _normal_ if you will.

“How are you coping at work? Better than your last company, I take it?” 

Akaashi nodded, “Yeah, I get along really well with everyone, not to mention I actually enjoy my job now because of it.” 

Kuroo smiled, “I’m really glad you feel that way, especially since Bokuto does too. Not to mention Konoha and the others, they think you’re really good for Bo.”

Akaashi looked down, suddenly feeling very flustered and aware of the other two males eyes on him. “Oh, I am very happy to hear that,” the assistant said without knowing what else he should say. 

Kenma hummed, “How have you been getting on with Bokuto’s moods? You dealing well?” The youtuber took this as his opportunity to ask his new friend. 

Akaashi looked up then, “Yeah, well Bokuto-san really hasn’t had any _mood_ moods, or slumps? But he does have his more downplayed ‘emo modes’. I can deal with them really well apparently, that’s what the others said anyway.” 

Akaashi looked at where his hands were clasped together, suddenly wringing them together, “But as for his slumps, I haven’t experienced them yet, and as much as I don’t want to see him like that, all I can say is that I’ll do my best when it comes to it.” 

Kuroo was looking at Akaashi with a certain glimmer in his eyes, although it was different from his usual mischievous light in them. Kenma smiled, and gave a short nod, not expecting any less from Akaashi. 

Kuroo smacked Akaashi oh his back, causing him to jolt at the sudden abruptness, “That’s really good to hear! And you have mine and Kenma’s numbers too now, so if you need help whenever the time does come, we’re one phone call away as we know how to deal with them, sort of.” 

Akaashi agreed, smiling gratefully, “Thank you both.”

“Plus,” Nekoma’s top model finished off, “Konoha mentioned how even his emo modes are dealt _exceptionally_ well with, and he has been more himself than ever. I just wanted to take this time to say thank you to you directly, Akaashi, since Bo’s not here and I haven’t gotten the chance to beforehand.” 

“It’s no problem, really Kuroo-san.” 

Kuroo beamed, “But still, just accept it would ya, and I think Bokuto isn’t gonna have one of his slumps anytime soon.” 

Kenma tutted at the older man, “Don’t jinx it Kuroo!” 

Akaashi and Kuroo chuckled, “I’m not, I’m not, I just have a peace of mind, is all.” Kuroo leant his back against the sofa. 

“Hey Akaashi, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you take the job if you don’t like this industry? I mean, we know you like it now which is great, but at the time, why?” Kenma asked out of pure curiosity. 

_Oh god, not this question again. I guess it’s my fault in the first place, and plus Kenma means no harm in asking,_ Akaashi thought to himself. 

And so that question being asked, Akaashi answered how he had done like every other single time beforehand. 

How he took it so he could carry on his literature classes. 

And _not_ because something else had intrigued him to accept it _right away_ that day.

_Not that he would tell the others that..._

###### 

_Two months ago (End of February)..._

Akaashi really did not want to be here. _At all._

So why he had accepted the offer after Iwaizumi had called him a few days after he had embarrassingly gotten fired from Aoba Johsai, he did not know. 

_Well he did,_ but it’s not like he particularly _needed_ to take this job to carry on attending his courses. Even when Yamaguchi had recommended working at Seijoh, he thought he would go for it in order to build up his savings again after he had bought his apartment, but he still had enough to most likely last until he finished his studies. 

Akaashi sighed, his leg beginning to bounce up and down anxiously. He looked at the clock that was facing him from the opposite wall; 11:16 AM. 

Akaashi’s interview should have been at 11:00, and it’s not as if anyone else was here waiting to get the same job as him. 

He was currently sitting in a pristine lobby on the second floor. Comfortable yet appealing black and white furniture was placed around the room Akaashi was in, himself sitting in a large black arm chair. The windows were exceptionally large too, the midday sunlight filtering through to make the room look even more richer than it already was, bathing in gold. 

Akaashi must admit, from what he had seen from the outside and now the inside of the building, he found himself preferring Fukurodani’s colour scheme of black, white, gold and midnight blue much more than Seijoh’s mint green and blue’s.

Akaashi kept his eyes focused on the door in front of him, wondering when someone was coming to retrieve him for his interview. Akaashi had opted to dress in a suit as it was formal and he would probably have to wear something of the sort everyday whilst working for a top model anyway. 

Someone suddenly whipped open the door; startling Akaashi out of his analyzations and looking up to see a put together but a little bit frazzled woman. 

The freckled redhead in a professional cream coloured pencil skirt walked over to Akaashi, bowing her head as she apologised for being so abrupt. 

Akaashi shook his head, giving her a slight smile, “It’s fine.”

The woman introduced herself as Yukie, Fukurdani’s front desk management, and led Akaashi to the elevators where she pressed on the 27th floor button. 

_Ah,_ Akaashi told himself, _this is most likely the floor I'll be working on if I get the job._

The doors pinged open, Yukie leading the way down a corridor and through a large set of double glass doors, into a room where six desks were situated. She made her way over to another set of glass doors at the front of the work space, shuffling her binders into one hand before rapping on the glass. 

She didn’t wait for a response, Akaashi figuring that the top model was already waiting for them on the other side. 

Yukie held the door open gesturing to Akaashi to go inside, before she bowed and made her way out, leaving Akaashi alone for the interview. 

He wasn’t stupid. Akaashi knew exactly who Fukurodani’s top model was. 

_Bokuto koutarou._

But seeing and meeting him in person instead of staring at him through a screen was a whole other thing. 

Bokuto was sitting on top of his desk, then gestured for Akaashi to sit down in the chair in front of him. 

“Hey! I’m sure you already know who I am, being as you're here for the job, but I'm Bokuto Koutarou! Nice to meet you Akashi Keiji!” 

Akaashi corrected the model, “It’s Akaashi,” and couldn’t help but feel rude as he did it. 

But the model’s beaming grin didn’t falter one bit, instead he corrected himself and apologized, “Oh my bad, sorry Akaashi!”

Akaashi couldn’t help but feel himself smile, the older man’s grin rather infectious. 

Bokuto was wearing a black and white flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled just above his defined forearms, paired with black cuffed jeans and boots. Akaashi couldn’t help but notice Bokuto looked every part of a model right at this moment, the sunlight from the window behind him casting a shadow on half the man’s face whilst making his hair glow. 

Akaashi thought he almost looked like a... _Star,_ with the way the sunlight was bathing him in gold. 

Although the man had salt and pepper streaked hair that was spiked up oddly, Akaashi thought it suited him really well, and couldn’t imagine him without it. 

Bokuto smiled brightly, turning his whole face back round to face his new to be assistant, having grabbed the sheet from his desk next to him. 

Akaashi was taken back; he hadn't realised just how _bright_ Bokuto’s eyes were. 

Yeah, he had seen them on magazine covers and billboards, but looking directly into them in person was something else entirely.

Akaashi was finding himself becoming more and more intrigued by the owl-featured man in front of him, already knowing he wasn’t like the others in his industry.

Not only that, but by the time Bokuto had gone through the whole sheet, interviewing him, they were able to have a small talk, despite the interview being over. 

And Bokuto had made Akaashi laugh more times in the last five minutes than anyone else had been able to in his whole life. 

“Hey hey Kaashi! You seem like you’d be a pretty good assistant you know!” Bokuto had said, looking back over the sheet where Akaashi’s answers were, their small talk gradually coming to an end. 

Bokuto was a busy man, after all. 

Akaashi chuckled, Bokuto already having come up with a nickname for Akaashi. 

He accepted it because in retrospect, Akaashi didn’t mind the way it sounded as it rolled off  
the top model’s tongue. 

He bowed his head in acknowledgement, “Thank-you, Bokuto-san, I hope I am able to work here.” 

Bokuto hummed, his legs swaying from where he was sat on top at the edge of his desk. He paused momentarily, looking up at Akaashi with wide, thoughtful eyes. “Hey Akaashi, you mentioned you wanted this job to carry on your classes, right? He murmured. 

Akaashi met his intense gaze, “Yes Bokuto-san, I did, but it’s okay if I don’t get it, afterall I have enough savings in my account that should hopefully last me until I finish them,” he said, beginning to clasp his hands together and tugging at his fingers in his lap. 

Bokuto noticed the habit straight away, eyes narrowing onto his hands, almost as if he was trying to will Akaashi’s anxiousness away, even though he had only just met him. 

He looked away suddenly, feeling as though it may make his to be assistant even more uncomfortable, meeting his eyes instead. 

But Akaashi was looking almost inbetween Bokuto’s eyes, not directly into them. 

“What would you say if I offered you a higher pay than what you would normally get?” Bokuto came out with.

Right then, Akaashi looked into Bokuto’s eyes, his hands coming to a stop in their movements. He paused for a few seconds, his mouth opening and shutting before finally coming up with an answer; “As generous as that is Bokuto-san, I’m not able to accept, the normal pay is already more than enough, and Iwaizumi-san was doing me a favour by telling me to come here.”

Bokuto nodded, “I know, Iwa-san called me to ask if I was still looking for an assistant, which I wasn't up until he told me about you.” The model faltered for a second, “I mean in the way of how you’re such a hard worker,” the model said, back tracking a little. 

Akaashi smiled understandingly, “If I were to get the job then that would be more than enough.” 

“How about this then? Iwaizumi already told me how you don’t really like this industry, so think of it as a way to compensate working for me! That, and let’s make a deal,” Bokuto added cheekily; “If you tell me why _exactly_ you don’t like this industry, I’ll tell you why I’ve offered you a higher pay one day in the future!” 

Akaashi’s eyes widened, he really didn’t think it was going to be Bokuto that would be the problem, he just hated it all in general. But he couldn't help but be intrigued, Bokuto going as far to make a little lighthearted deal.

But Akaashi didn’t really know how to respond. Everything about the man in front of him just radiated warmth and generosity, and Akaashi had _only just met the guy._

“Oh, that reminds me!” The owl-like man leaned over his desk to where his laptop was sitting open, before clicking a few things and turning back to face Akaashi again. “You’ve already got the job!” He said, grinning at him. 

Akaashi did a double take, his mouth hanging open in shock; “W-what Bokuto-san? But I thought you would let me know in a week’s time?”

“Well I just think there’s not much point ‘Kaashi! The week is just put in place for me to think things over and be sure of everything. But since i’m already sure about you, there’s no point in keeping you waiting around for nothing!” Bokuto explained. 

Akaashi was still in shock, but he couldn’t deny the fact it made sense. “Very well then, I don’t think I would have come here if I were to just decline it in the end,” he paused for a second, thinking it through, “So, when do I start, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi smiled up at the man. 

Bokuto beamed brightly to say the least, the brightest Akaashi had seen him smile just within the hour he had met him. 

_As a matter of fact, Akaashi thought Bokuto beamed brighter than the sun._

###### 

_Present…_

Bokuto had arrived back at Kenma’s penthouse round about ten minutes ago, having already topped up their drinks, having bought some snacks for the movies they were watching later on, and even buying _four_ bags of marshmallows, throwing a pack at Kuroo with a “Take it slow, bro!” 

They had all been sitting in their usual spaces, except Kuroo who wanted to feel more “Part of the conversation,” so slipped down to sit next to Akaashi, back against the sofa like him.

All of them were joking around like usual, until Kuroo, _ever the provocation expert,_ decided to ask Akaashi something he had heard from the rest of the guys at Fukurodani. 

_Something that Akaashi was trying to keep secret._

_Damn it Kuroo._

“Soooo Akaashi, Konoha tells me you got a date huh?” 

Akaashi’s eyes blew wide open, eyebrows shooting up on his forehead.

Both Kenma and Kuroo pretended to ignore the way Bokuto nearly spilt his hot chocolate all over him. 

“I uh, it’s really not that important, plus it’s not really a _date_ ; Yukie just asked me one morning if I wanted to grab something to eat with her sometime this week.”

Kenma switched his game console off for the night, the metal clinking against the glass table as he placed it next to his mug. “So it is a date then,” he said to the assistant. 

Akaashi guffawed, not expecting Kenma to tease him too. _Kuroo, yes_ \- but anyone other than the cat, _no._

Kenma must have realised what he was thinking, _smirking_ at him lopsidedly as Akaashi’s brows knitted together in frustration. 

“Dude, it’s totally a date. You do know that, right?” Kuroo asked. 

_Well of course I know it’s a date, but I’m not expecting to get anywhere. Well maybe I can, who knows, it's definitely worth trying, there’s no harm, right?_ Akaashi questioned himself. 

“Well, I figured that’s what she meant when she said let’s meet outside a restaurant on Wednesday night, but I don’t think it’s going to lead anywhere,” Akaashi told them honestly. 

“Oya oya, why’s that then?” Kuroo grinned devilishly. 

Akaashi did not like the way Kuroo’s tone shifted and the way his eyebrows shot up provokingly. 

But Kenma was focused on Bokuto, letting Akaashi and Kuroo carry on their little back and forth question and answers. Except Bokuto was sitting rather normally, not looking downcast at all. 

Though Kenma knew better; he could see it in his eyes. 

Bokuto’s eyes were unfocused, watching droplets of condensation slip down the side of his mug to pool on the glass surface of the table. 

Akaashi was getting tired of Kuroo’s prodding, though he knew he meant well, it _really_ wasn't that big of a deal. 

Here's the thing; it had been like any other normal morning where Akaashi walks to the front desk to be let through, and Yukie flashed him one of her cheeky, white smiles again, making small talk before letting him through. 

However, Yukie had kept him a little longer that day, and Akaashi knew something was up.

“Would you like to grab something to eat with me sometime?” She had asked, her suddenly confident demeanour vanishing for a second. 

Akaashi was stunned, though he had seen it coming. _God, talk about being put on the spot much,_ he thought to himself, looking over to Kaori who was on the next desk over who was watching them so obviously like a bird about to snatch it’s prey. 

Akaashi really just wanted to get up to his desk, the coffee was going to go cold, and he _really_ did not want to keep Bokuto-san waiting. 

“I- Yeah, why not I guess?” He winced to himself, knowing that wasn’t the most eloquent or gentlemanly way of going about it. 

Yukie flashed him another bright grin, _Not as bright as someone else's I know,_ Akaashi reminded himself. 

They exchanged numbers, and that was the rest of it, all of which happened last Tuesday. Ever since then, their talks in the morning’s were the same, other than Akaashi was kept for about two minutes longer before he broke away, claiming he couldn’t keep the others waiting. 

Yukie had also attempted to text Akaashi into having a conversation after work hours, but Akaashi usually didn’t respond right away seeing as he always had Bokuto over, and he thought it was rather rude of him to start texting another person. So other than a few ‘Hi’s and Hello, how are you’s,’ there was nothing really special about it. 

“Can we please just stop talking about it?” Akaashi let out agitatedly.

He didn’t mean to sound rude or abrupt to his friends, but as he kept telling them; “It’s really not a big deal, I’m just going to see if there’s any potential, _which most likely there won’t be,_ ” Akaashi reprimanded Kuroo for the eighth time. 

Kuroo held his hands up in surrender, “Okay, but you never know!” 

Akaashi narrowed his eyes mildly at Kuroo, the other man knowing there was no real malice behind his glares; “Never know _what,_ exactly?” 

Kuroo shut up, knowing he had gone too far, getting the hint from the pillow that was smashed against his face. 

Everyone let out a few laughs then, even Bokuto, who Akaashi had noticed was suddenly very very quiet. 

Akaashi frowned. 

After a few movies, more bickering and joking about stories from their past, they all decided it was getting a little too late, especially considering they had to get up early for their big day at work tomorrow.  
Kenma and Kuroo started to clear up as Bokuto and Akaashi made their way to the hallway to get their stuff. 

“Hey Akaashi?” Bokuto murmured, crouching down as he done his shoelaces up, “Why don’t I take you home tonight? The trains will probably be delayed this time of night, not to mention dangerous alone in the streets.” 

Bokuto panicked, standing up as he waved his hands about uselessly, “Not that I’m saying you can’t take care of yourself or anything, cause you totally can ‘Kaashi, I bet you’re really strong! I just—” 

Akaashi saved the model from his rambling, “It’s fine Bokuto-san, I understand what you mean,” he said as he pulled his scarf around his neck. 

“Oh, that’s great Kaashi,” Bokuto said, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “It’ll be my private transport though, seeing as you live further away from here than me and it’s less risky that way to be in the public.” 

Akaashi hummed, understanding fully. “That’s fine, I really appreciate the offer in the first place.” 

Bokuto smiled, ignoring the way his heart beat a little faster as he saw Akaashi smile up at him, and gathered the rest of his things as his assistant did the same, eventually shouting out that they were leaving and a “Thank you for the good night!” 

Kuroo ran into the front room, waving from he was standing to see his two friends out, waiting until they shut the door and making his way back over to Kenma, who was washing up everything from the night. 

Kuroo stood next to the gamer with the towel, drying and putting everything back to its original place as kenma finished washing it and handing them over. 

“Tonight was really fun, huh treacle?” Kuroo said, looking down at him. 

Kenma met his eyes; “Yeah, it really was, we should have an _actual_ sleepover next time though.” 

“Yeah, good point,” the rooster haired man said. “Well tomorrow is gonna be a great opportunity, especially for the newer models.” He paused drying the plate for second; 

“Kenma, you are coming to watch tomorrow, aren’t you?” 

As Kenma looked up into his eyes, he also paused his motions cleaning the dishes, surprised at the sudden intensity of which Kuroo’s gaze held him by. 

Kenma Swallowed. 

“Yeah, of course, I always do.” 

Since their last little fight a few weeks back, everything had returned to normal the next day, Kuroo showing up after work to play a few games with Kenma for his youtube channel. 

And sadly enough, Kenma was _relieved._

He knew that it shouldn’t keep going on like this, no matter how many times they got a little too close to each other, unable to stop themselves, they both didn’t have the guts to confront each other and sit down to have a _real_ conversation about it. 

Or at least, that has been the case since Kenma stopped trying altogether a little bit more than a year ago, always resulting in it shutting Kuroo off from him in the worst way possible. 

But Kenma couldn’t keep _living like this._

He loved Kuroo - _too much._

And sadly enough, Kenma knew that Kuroo still loved him back too. 

All Kenma could piece together about it all was that Kuroo, and their relationship had started to go downhill after Kuroo got told he couldn’t pursue a career in volleyball. 

The professional career he always dreamt of since the day they had met, all those years ago. 

And as Kuroo’s mental health slowly declined from that tragic night onwards, _which was supposed to be one of their most happiest memories together,_ their relationship did too. 

There was no need for the formalities of it all - they both knew by staying in their relationship in a time like that was hurting the both of them. 

And so, after a few weeks of Kuroo slowly improving, lifting himself back up as he refused everyone else's help, he slowly, _ever so slowly,_ became himself again. 

Not _fully_ himself, but himself enough. 

Kenma was there for him again, but instead of continuing their relationship, they kept it to just being best friends. 

_Best friends, like they always had been._

And Kenma was okay with that, if it was what Kuroo wanted, then Kenma would give it to him. None of that bitter exes, best friends that are now at each other's throats, shit. 

They went back to their normal lives, no awkwardness, _nothing._

And they were happy. 

_Well happy as they both could be._

Eventually, a few months after getting back into a normal routine, things began to change. 

There would be moments during Kenma’s gaming streams that Kuroo would sit on the floor behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face into Kenma’s hair. 

Times where Kuroo started to have night terrors and begged Kenma to spend the night with him, comforting him in ways that were a little more than just _best friends._

Times where they would just pause to stare at each other, or when things were uttered close enough to those _three words,_ but not quite. 

And where things became too much, resulting in not being able to keep their hands off of each other, always resulting in Kuroo walking out, then acting as everything was the same again. 

_Although, am I any better?_ Kenma asked himself, knowing it’s not as if he helped the situation sometimes. 

But Kenma wanted to be _free._

He wanted Kuroo to be _free._

He wanted them to both be able to love each other _freely._

He wanted it to all go back to normal, before that devastating night. 

Before they mutually decided they should just go back to being best friends. 

But he knew that as long as he kept doing nothing about it, the longer he would be in pain. The longer Kuroo would be in pain.  
He didn’t understand why they were like this, all Kenma could do was put together little bits and pieces of why Kuroo couldn’t accept them being together. 

Kenma felt horrible that he couldn’t understand the one person on this earth he was closest to. 

The one person he’d give everything up in a heartbeat for. 

It was only a matter of time before this already fragile string was snapped completely. 

And he felt awfully close to it. 

Maybe Kuroo felt it too. 

Where Kenma kept pushing, Kuroo pulled away. 

When Kuroo was pushing, Kenma pulled away. 

It was an endless push & pull. 

###### 

Bokuto’s transport pulled up outside of Akaashi’s apartment. 

It was well past midnight by now, which probably wasn’t the best of ideas since there was such a big event for the two top models the following morning. 

But hey, at least they had fun and boosted all of their spirits. 

It was a cloudless, clear night, and all the stars were out on show, the midnight blue sky sparkling more than Akaashi had ever seen it, the luminated billboards reflecting off into the rain soaked streets was mesmerising. 

For the whole twenty minute ride back, Akaashi had been staring out of his window for most of it, taking the city in. It was times like this where the city was quiet and empty, rare as it was usually bustling with people during the day and late friday and saturday nights.  
But when the city was like this, whether it was late into the darkness of the night or early morning hours as birds let out their first few chirps, Akaashi loved it the most. 

It was peaceful moments like this where Akaashi found himself awestruck and most inspired by the need to grab his notebook and write down all the poetry that came to mind. 

Bokuto was staring at him. 

He was pretty sure Akaashi knew that he was, but he didn’t care. Not right now anyway, with the way Akaashi’s ocean blue eyes looked stormier than ever as the city lights shone in them, the golden yellow street lamps forming a crescent on his face, and the way the cupid bow of his lips was shaped perfectly. The way his body was so open, half his face and body turned away from the model, but his hand resting in the middle of the seat between them. 

Bokuto found his own hand inching closer and closer to the middle of the space between them. 

Every now and then when Akaashi found something completely enthralling, the side of his mouth would quirk up, the slightest hint of a smile on his face as the car whirred past the buildings and skyscrapers. 

Bokuto couldn’t look away from the sight in front of him. 

He always knew Akaashi was pretty, even Kuroo and Kenma had eyes and knew it - _hell anyone would._

But Bokuto thought that Akaashi Keiji was outright _beautiful._

Bokuto found that if someone handed him a pen and paper right at this moment, he could spout poetry about the man before his eyes for days on end. 

_But all good things had to come to an end, right?_

The top model’s transport pulled up outside of Akaashi’s apartment. 

Akaashi turned his head fully to look Bokuto in his eyes. 

Except Bokuto was already there to meet him dead on. 

And there it was again, that shocking energy between them that Akaashi had never felt this strongly before. It was almost as if Bokuto was a tidal wave, and Akaashi was drowning - _no, letting himself be pulled in,_ by it. 

The way that they were both sitting in the backseat of the model’s private transport shouldn’t have been as stunning as it was to the both of them. Bokuto’s whole body was facing towards Akaashi, his hand in the middle ever so close to where the assistants own had been resting, and Akaashi’s whole body was turned towards him now, too. 

Akaashi needed to draw his hand back. 

He _had_ to. 

If he didn’t pull away right now, before _whatever this is_ could go any further, he knew he’d be regretting it. 

But as usual, when it came down to the top model, Akaashi often found his body moving on it’s own accord, no sense in him at all. 

Bokuto’s hand inched closer towards Akaashi’s, the latter immediately breaking eye contact to watch it, suddenly scared of what he was letting happen. 

By now, Bokuto would have pulled back if Akaashi seemed uncomfortable, yet Akaashi wasn’t making a move to pull back at all, Bokuto still staring at Akaashi’s eyes, not wanting to look away. Akaashi just looked shocked, his eyes widening as his hand got closer and closer. 

Akaashi managed to stare Bokuto in his eyes again, finding them more intense than just a few seconds ago. 

_I should pull away,_ Akaashi told himself, _pull away, get out right now Keiji._

But instead the opposite happened. 

Akaashi felt his body shift towards Bokuto, Akaashi moving his hand closer and closer to the models. 

The second each of their fingers brushed, Akaashi jolted back slightly, before resting them back where they were; fingertips barely touching. 

Bokuto took this as his opportunity to fully place his palm on top of his assistants own, moving his head to lean down closer to Akaashi’s. 

They weren’t close enough to feel the heat of each other's breaths just yet, but they were close enough for what was happening. 

Akaashi’s heart rate picked up, beating in his ears. 

He didn’t know what to feel. But he felt _scared._

Not because of Bokuto, no. He knew that Bokuto could _never ever_ make Akaashi feel uncomfortable, let alone _scared._

No, Akaashi was scared of _himself._ Of his own actions and his body’s free will. 

Akaashi didn’t dare break eye contact between him and Bokuto, the owl-like man’s eyes looking rather... _sympathetic?_

Akaashi knew that look. It was the exact same look he saw for a brief few moments earlier tonight, back at Kenma’s. 

That same sadness and something else lingering in them that Akaashi couldn’t quite place. 

_Didn’t want to place._

Because he was pretty sure that his own eyes were betraying him, looking at the man before him in the same, frustrating way. 

Akaashi’s hand was _burning._

Yet he still hadn't pulled away. 

_“Akaashi,”_ Bokuto whispered, _“Please, don’t—”_

Akaashi tore himself away. He turned his back on Bokuto, opening the car door wide open, the chilly mid April air knocking him to his senses. He wished it would cool down his flushed face. 

He was fully out of the car, debating whether or not he should say something to the man who was staring up at him in wide, somewhat hurt eyes, his hand and posture still the same way it was when Akaashi had been next to him. 

Akaashi leant down, one hand on the car door and the other holding his satchel with his belongings; “Goodnight Bokuto-san, please remember to get some rest, you have a long day ahead of you.” 

And with that, Akaashi shut the door. He stepped back a few paces, seeing he could at least watch until the car was out of view, willing his heartbeat to _calm the hell down,_ and his mind to stop _overflowing._ He tried to maintain a somewhat normal composure until Bokuto was out of view, his escort having turned a corner. 

Akaashi raced up the stairs, not even bothering to take the elevator like he usually would; he needed to feel the rush of adrenaline right now, he needed to feel the burn in his calves as he raced upwards, stair after stair, floor after floor. 

At least then he could delude himself into thinking his racing heart and flushed face was because of the sudden burst of exercise and adrenaline coursing through his veins, and _not_ because of a certain starry-eyed model. 

He whipped out his keys, hands fumbling and shaking rapidly, his breathing still erratic.

He burst through his door, and into his apartment, not even thinking to place his keys into their bowl, and he’s pretty sure he just threw them off to the side somewhere, yanking his satchel over his head and throwing it onto his couch too. 

He made way to his kitchen, behind the breakfast bar and to the sink where his shaky hands tried to pour himself a glass of water. 

He gulped it down as fast as he could, willing himself to _calm the fuck down._

Akaashi wasn’t a stranger to this. 

He knew why his breathing wasn’t going down, he knew why his legs felt like jelly, and he knew why his hands were shaking almost inhumane-like. 

He knew why he began to slump down the kitchen counters, and onto his floor with his knees drawn up. He knew why his vision was beginning to cloud with black spots. 

He knew that the more he gasped for air, the more he’d struggle to breathe. 

He wasn’t a stranger to this. 

Akaashi Keiji was having a _panic attack._

Akaashi pulled his knees up, holding both arms out in front of him and they rested on top, burying his face in them. 

_No no no no, why is this happening._

_You’re so stupid, Keiji, why why why…_

He thought he had been getting better at this, so why did he feel as though he were moving backwards…? 

Akaashi removed his head from the small gap, panting, trying to think coherently to make his breathing level out. 

_Think Akaashi, think. What do I normally do when this happens?_

He tried to think, trying to function properly without the fogginess clouding over his brain. 

The truth is, this hadn’t happened to Akaashi in a very very long time. He had always kept his distance, always made sure to keep himself safe, knowing that if he didn’t he would end up like - _Well, this._

_Think think,_ Akaashi reprimanded himself. 

He started to tap his fingers restlessly against his knees, the awkward angle of the way he was sitting causing the hard handles of the kitchen cupboards to protrude into his back. 

Akaashi pried his creased eyes open, _That’s right,_ he told himself, _I need to ground myself._

Akaashi clasped his hands together, rapidly squeezing and squeezing the part between his thumb and pointer finger, trying to find that pressure point that grounded him in moments like this. 

Although it wasn’t as simple as that, and only worked half the time, he found it brought his breathing to a somewhat reasonable pace. 

He started to twist and tug on his fingers, enjoying the heavy sensation he felt after every pull, needing to be _grounded._

Any sort of pressure, anything that weighed a heavy sensation on him, brought him back to reality. 

When that didn’t work, although it was his go to thing most of the time, seeing as he always had no one else to remind him, he used the _list five things method,_ where he had to name one thing he smelt, one thing he could taste, hear, see and so on. 

Akaashi slumped even further down where he was sat, revelling in the coldness of the floor tiles for a few minutes, his head tilted up towards the ceiling, neck leaning on the cupboard. 

He doesn’t know exactly how long he remained there, all he knew was that by the time he managed to pick himself up and trudge his way to his bedroom, he didn’t even bother to shower, opting to get up early instead for one. 

_Luckily I’m already in my pajamas,_ Akaashi told himself somewhat humorlessly. 

He got under his covers, cocooning himself best as he could so that he still had a big enough gap for him to breathe. 

For some unknown, bewildering reason, Akaashi felt wetness slip down his face. 

_Don’t be stupid Keiji, you have work in a few hours, and a date tomorrow,_ he reminded himself. _And it is going to go well._

_Pull yourself together._

Akaashi couldn’t count how long he must have been staring numbly at his glowing alarm clock before he finally let himself drift off to sleep. 

That night, Akaashi dreamt of nothing special in particular. 

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Ouch :(( Poor Akaashi,, I love him so much my heart hurts lmao. 
> 
> What was that devastating night Kuroken went through hmmmmm I wonder 👀 what happened?! 
> 
> also special shout out to duru who beta reads EVERY SINGLE chapter and has to deal with my annoying ass nearly every hour of the day lmao as i send updates, and yet again Sidal and abi who always give me ideas and the most amazing support ALL THE TIME!! Love u guys sm,, along with the people who leave comments cause you guy motivate me to no end, best part of uploading a chapter for me!! 💜
> 
> Follow me on twitter if you'd like, I post my art and wip drawings,, but I'm mostly Bokuaka and Akaashi trash first. My @ is LilacBonbon 
> 
> Much love, Bon <3


	6. Inappropriate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something a little more lighthearted perhaps?
> 
> I honestly hadn't realised how upsetting the last chapter was lmao...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say, to all of the people out there that have been affected/is suffering from the absolutely disgusting racism and events taking place in america right now, and in the past, i am truly very sorry. I hope you are all taking good care of yourselves and one another. As to all the black people that read this, please know that your well-being also matters, and every single one of you are amazing. And to everyone in general, stay safe 💜 
> 
> Except from cops, fuck you all. (You all know the ones I mean)
> 
> In the meantime, if you come across any links or petitions, please do your part and sign them and share as much as you can!! I also encourage you to put them on your insta and snapchat stories so your irls can sign them too!! The more ppl, the better!! 
> 
> #BLM

_What if who I hoped to be was always me?  
And the love I fought to feel was always free?  
What if all the things I've done, yeah  
Were just attempts at earning love? Yeah  
'Cause the hole inside my heart is stupid deep, stupid deep_

_What if where I've tried to go was always here?  
And the path I've tried to cut was always clear?  
Why has life become a plan, yeah  
To put some money in my hand?  
When the love I really need is stupid cheap, stupid cheap_

_Deep._

_~ Stupid Deep, Jon Bellion_

###### 

It was April 21st. 

The long awaited day for the Nekoma and Fukurodani crossover event had arrived. And out of all of the people they were shooting for, it was of course the well known and most famous magazine; _Vogue Japan._

Akaashi was currently standing in front of the set where white screens and all around lighting systems were set up, making the white screens brighter than what they already were, seemingly blinding Akaashi. 

Kuroo just seemed to be finishing up his photoshoot take, the make up artists and set helpers coming over to move him into his studio in order to prep him for the next shoot he was to be featured in. And because Kuroo’s single shoot was done, that now meant _Bokuto was next._

Akaashi gulped. 

Luckily Kenma and Nekoma’s two assistants next to him hadn’t heard. 

Well either that, or they chose to pretend not to have heard it. Akaashi would prefer if it was the latter. 

Plus, he’s pretty sure he heard a similar type of sound come from Kenma earlier too, when it was Kuroo’s turn. But coming from himself was highly absurd, causing him to flush a little in embarrassment. 

Akaashi _swears_ he isn’t petty. 

All the cameras were currently being repositioned into focus; Bokuto’s make up artist currently positioning him on a metal stool that was in the center of the white backdrop, finishing the last of the touch ups that the vogue directors had insisted. 

So far the plan had gone well; Kuroo was to have his single page shots for the inside of the magazine, then once he was done, it was Bokuto’s turn for his own photos for a featured page spread. Bokuto and Kuroo were both sharing one photo set, and the rest of Nekoma and Fukurodani’s models had been paired up to share a set each too, five photo sets laid right across the room. Once they had completed their single page shots, they would be then taking shoots together. 

Akaashi had never seen so many sets at a time in his life, the room dark and a somewhat yellow hazy glow from the bright white of the backdrops illuminated. He was grateful that Kenma had tagged along too, finding out that whenever Kuroo had a particularly major client, he would always come to support and watch. 

Yaku and Lev were also currently standing on the other side of him, the two of them making jokes and bickering back and forth and the occasional “Shut up lev!” from both Kenma, and Yaku simultaneously. 

Akaashi found it amusing.

But right now, with Bokuto looking the way he did _right at this moment,_ Akaashi couldn’t really seem to focus on much else. 

Since it was Bokuto’s own page that would feature on the inside of the magazine, the directors thought that it would be more appropriate and fitting that Bokuto wore a more _formal_ outfit, instead of the spring clothes that they would have to get changed into later on for what they were advertising. 

And by _formal,_ Akaashi also thought to himself they meant something else _completely._

Because the way that Bokuto was doing practice shots right now and looking, was outright _inappropriate._

 _Well_ \- to Akaashi at least. 

_Right, they probably have to pose like this all the time,_ Akaashi reminded himself. 

Just because it was an inconvenience for Akaashi, causing him to _think things_ that he definitely should not be, doesn’t mean he has the right to just scream “Stop!!” at the camera crew, and dunk a bucket of water over Bokuto to mess up the way he looks. _Wait, that most likely would make things even worse if I were to do that._

_Stop._ Akaashi reprimanded himself. _Don’t be stupid._

He observed Bokuto up and down; his salt and peppered hair was slicked back, not up in it’s original spikiness or down in its natural state, but _slicked back,_ creating a little tuft of puffy hair in the middle and a few cowlicks stood up at the end, a few flyaway strands falling over his forehead. He was wearing a dark gray button up, and from the way it was fit on him, Akaashi could tell as he eyed it that the strained fabric was chiffon, the few top buttons popped open, and sleeves rolled up just below his elbows. 

It was paired with a deep, dark red tie, loosely done up as the director told the top model to pull it undone. This way, as Bokuto pulled it loose, the photographers could take multiple shots. Bokuto was perched on the metal stool, his legs slightly parted, causing his black slacks to stretch across his thighs. 

Of course Akaashi had known that Bokuto was handsome, everyone in this god damn agency had to be in order to have the jobs they had. But right now, as Akaashi found that he couldn’t tear his eyes away, he was pretty sure that the thoughts running through his head were a little more than borderline inappropriate. 

Akaashi watched, swearing he wasn’t blinking at all as he ran his eyes over the expanse of his bosses broad shoulders, muscular arms and thighs that were strained from the fabric he was wearing. 

_Too tight,_ Akaashi found himself thinking. 

_But not tight enough…_

_What the hell am I thinking?! Seriously Keiji, you’re really just going to stand here and mentally undress your boss?!_

If anyone could hear his thoughts right now, he would want to be sent into an early grave. 

Maybe the headstone could have something along the lines of; “Here lies Akaashi Keiji, sent into an early death because of his gorgeous boss, but _no homo.”_

He was seriously beginning to give himself a headache. 

Watching as Bokuto narrowed his gaze into a lustful type look, lips slightly parted, and one hand resting on his knee whilst the other slowly dragging his hand down the tie, Akaashi couldn’t help but think it was a sinful thing to watch. 

He blushed just looking at him. 

_God, who the hell even am I anymore?_

_No no no, you don’t wish that you were that tie right now Keiji, stop it right now, you have a date tomorrow, and it’s going to go well._

As Bokuto’s shoot got cut, Akaashi could have cried out in glee.

He tried not to replay last night's events in his head, considering what it had eventually reduced him to in the end. 

All he figured he could be grateful for was that when Bokuto had met Akaashi outside Fukurodani co. this morning, along with the rest of the models, everything seemed back to normal.

Even when they had all climbed into the transport to make their way to Nekoma, Bokuto had sat next to Akaashi as he usually would, and Akaashi felt as though he could have cried with relief. 

Maybe he was being too over dramatic, but after a long night of restless sleep, that’s all he yearned for, especially since he couldn’t risk losing their friendship he cherished. 

So yes, Akaashi was _extremely_ relieved that Bokuto had chosen to carry on like nothing had happened, instead just carrying on with their easy friendship, their easy routine that they had both come to like so much. 

And as much as it still scared and confused him to no end, what happened last night wasn’t like it hadn't happened before. They both knew that there were many _many_ moments where time just seemed to stand still, just them two alone when that inexplicable tension arose - so why had Akaashi thrown himself into such a panic last night in particular? 

_So why had last night felt different from all the previous times?_

Akaashi didn’t let himself dwell on it. 

He found himself not _wanting to._

Just continuing on pretending like nothing strange took place, pushing all those feelings bubbling up inside of him back down, bottling it all up until he no longer felt them for a certain starry eyed model. 

_But he knew deep down that that bottle would burst soon._

Akaashi shivered just thinking about it. He couldn’t let his feelings get ahead of himself, let alone _get out_ for everyone to hear. 

_What you feel is wrong._

_Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?_

_How can you call yourself normal?_

Akaashi let his thoughts get the best of him yet again.

_Somehow, he felt as though he was bringing up his past…_

He shut it all out, which seemed like it was becoming more and more his speciality, deluding himself yet again until he was forced to confront it. 

Instead he tried thinking about what he was going to wear on his date tomorrow, planning it all out in his head, distracting himself as Bokuto emerged from a makeshift studio room where he had gotten changed back into a basic white shirt and black joggers, waiting for the next shoots to start. 

Akaashi had almost forgotten that the director had called for an hour lunch break, all models from the five sets going to the next room which held a long table with all the buffet and finger foods they could help themselves to. 

_Wait, is it that time already?_ Akaashi thought, obviously too submersed in his inner thoughts, glad the sudden chaoticness of the room pulled him out of it. 

Yaku and Lev were already off towards the food, the taller silver haired man dragging the smaller assistant along, the latter nagging things like; “Lev!! Stop acting so unprofessional, there’s still going to be enough food left for you!” And many more mumbles that Akaashi could barely make out, mostly consisting of, “Yeah but Yaku! We need to get the best first pick!” 

As much as everyone knew how much both Lev and Yaku liked to bicker, he also knew how smitten they were with each other. 

He pretended not to see Yaku’s face morph into a softer, less guarded expression at Lev’s answer. 

“Hey Akaashi, you want to go and get some lunch together across the street?” Kenma’s soft, calming voice asked from beside him. 

Akaashi could probably do with a breath of fresh air right now, and by the looks of things, it seemed Kenma wanted to get away from all the loud people in the room. 

“Yeah sure, let’s go.” 

And with that, the assistant and gamer made their way out of the Nekoma building, and to the nearest sushi place across the street. 

They sat at the stools lining the window, mostly sitting in comfortable silence with his friend, but occasionally talking about Kenma’s job, or asking more about Akaashi to get to know him. 

As they admired the view from inside, they watched people going about their everyday lives, Akaashi also admiring the black and red colours of the Nekoma building from where the sun hit the billboards lining it. 

_All Akaashi could hope was for these feelings to go away..._

###### 

Bokuto had been searching everywhere for Akaashi when Kuroo had come up to him to tell him that he saw Kenma and Akaashi walk out the building, figuring they had gone out to get lunch. 

Kuroo didn’t miss the way he saw his best friend's face fall either, once he told him that, the owl-like man's gaze lingering on the exit across the far end of the room. 

“Hey bro, are you okay?” Kuroo asked the top model somewhat tentatively. 

Bokuto finally tore his eyes away from the door, looking at Kuroo, “Yeah yeah, I’m fine dude! I was just thinking.”

Kuroo raised his eyebrows knowingly, “Oh yeah, about what hm? About how you’re worried your little Akaashi might not find his way back to the building?” 

Bokuto looked at his best friend's feline stare, completely unamused. 

“You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” Bokuto huffed, annoyed. 

Kuroo saw the slight colour tint his cheeks, at the same time reaching up to steal an onigiri from his plate. 

“Hey!! Kuroo, do not steal my food you bastard!” 

“Well you clearly weren't gonna eat it, standing there as still as a rock. So I figured someone had to,” He reasoned, giving the model his signature smirk.

Bokuto huffed once more, not snapping back with a playful retort. Instead, he opted to just shove his paper plate into Kuroo’s chest, seeing as the rooster haired man had already scoffed his down in a mere matter of seconds.

“Here, just take the rest.” 

Okay. Now Kuroo was becoming more and more concerned by the minute. 

“Woah man, you’re giving your food _away?!_ Who are you and what have you done with Bokuto? Kuroo teased, trying to get his friend to at least show a smile of some sort. 

Luckily they were standing away from the rest of their friends, both of them standing by the doorway, watching as the vogue directors were straightening and hanging up the spring clothes in each of their studio rooms to get dressed in for the next take. 

“Seriously, it’s nothing, it’s probably just one of my stupid emo modes again, you know how I get, Kuroo,” He mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor. 

“Alright, if you say so. But as your number one bro in the whole wide world,” - Bokuto looked up at him then, a small smile forming on his face, “I have to get you to tell me what is really going on. Is it to do with Akaashi?” 

As much as Kuroo loved to brag about Kenma being the analytical one, Kuroo was quite the perceptive and clever one too, all of it down to his damn mischievousness. 

Bokuto sighed, giving it away, “Maybe…” 

Kuroo looked at his friend sympathetically. Even when Bokuto was round Kenma’s a month ago, he knew it was eventually going to affect the top model more than what he had let on. He just hadn’t realised how _soon_ it was going to be. 

But also knowing the owl-like man, he was probably making a mountain out of a molehill again, and knowing if he only spoke about it, he could get out of his little emo mode the quicker. 

Kuroo put his hand on the other man’s shoulder, trying to be as reassuring as he can. “Look, remember about a month ago when you came round the first night after worrying?”

Bokuto nodded his head, looking at his friend directly. 

“Me and Kenma hardly had to say anything, so stop putting yourself down and being ashamed of your moods all the time. It’s completely normal, okay? So what if you feel your emotions more frequently, at least you’re not keeping them bottled up, which I swear you still do sometimes,” Kuroo reprimanded him, and Bokuto chuckled, “So don’t you _dare_ go doing that more now.” 

“As for Akaashi, I don't know what happened after you two left last night, and I don’t have to know if you don’t want to tell me, but I’m sure whatever it is, you’re overthinking it. Everything has been fine so far today, right?” 

The owl-like man nodded, realising that in fact, what Kuroo was saying was true. Thinking back on today's events so far, everything had gone smoothly, considering the fear Bokuto had woken up with this morning, he couldn’t have asked for it any better. 

Everything between him and Akaashi was normal, and it’s not like Bokuto could use the excuse that it was because they were in front of people, because even when they were alone, it was still like it had been all the other times. 

Bokuto just hoped it stayed this way, obviously cursing himself by making Akaashi practically leap out the door as he started speaking. 

_God, what on earth was I thinking? I was almost going to tell Akaashi not to go on the date tomorrow, what came over me?_

He tried to push down the bitter feeling rising from the pit of his stomach. 

Bokuto wasn’t an envious person, _really, he wasn't._

_But yet again, it’s not like he had felt this strongly about anyone else to feel it before…_

He shook his head, focusing back on Kuroo who had dropped his hand from his shoulder now. 

“You hear me Bokuto? Everything is fine. Plus Kenma isn’t one to gossip anyway, I bet they are just geeking it out, talking about games and Akaashi about literature and whatnot,” He finished off, giving a lighthearted laugh. 

This also clearly seemed to pull a warm chuckle out of Bokuto too, knowing that everything his best friend was saying was true. “Yeah yeah, you’re right, plus awkward things happen all the time, it’s all good.” 

Kuroo laughed, “When am I wrong?” 

This caused Bokuto to punch Kuroo in his shoulder. 

“Awh bro! Seriously, after I helped you out?!” Nekoma’s top model feigned hurt.

Bokuto snickered, “Shut up you cat!” 

They both walked from their corner and decided to join Lev and Yaku’s conversation, Kuroo breaking off halfway through to go and look at the pairings listed for the next shoots with Kai. 

“Hey Bokuto, everything alright?” Yaku asked as he refilled his plate with more food, now finding his appetite. 

“Maybe he looks sad because Akaashi isn’t here,” Lev responded, food hanging out of his mouth as he stuffed it too much all at once. 

“Lev!” Yaku said, lifting his leg up to kick him in the back of his thighs, and _hard._

Lev winced, nearly dropping his plate of food in the process. “What was that for?! That hurt,” the silver haired assistant pouted, looking like a baby all of a sudden. 

The shorter man hissed at him, “You can’t just say things like that Lev! It’s inappropriate!” 

“Oh, right,” he said, still rubbing his thighs. 

“Um, you do know I’m right here,” Bokuto chuckled, amused by the little show going on in front of him, a lopsided smile plastering his face. 

“Sorry, Bokuto, I just thought you’d be with Akaashi since Kuroo said you two can’t be separated.” 

Bokuto raised his eyebrows, “Oh, did he now?” 

Yaku laughed, “Yeah, Kenma may have said it too, when he was visiting. I’m glad I got to meet Akaashi-san in person though, everyone really likes him!”

Bokuto smiled, he liked that everyone else liked Akaashi, it made him really happy for some odd reason.

 _No Bokuto, it’s normal to want your friends to get along._

Lev stretched up on his toes, craning his neck to look around the room.

Yaku sighed, giving up. “Lev, you do realise you don’t have to do that, you’re already tall enough you idiot!” He placed his hand across his forehead, shutting his eyes and looking down in embarrassment. 

Lev slowly lowered himself down, flushing, “W-well yeah I know, but there are really tall people in this room! I just wanted to see if I could find Akaashi for Bokuto.” 

Yaku gave a soft smile up at him, “I’m sure Bokuto-san would have found Akaashi himself by now.” He looked up at said man, asking him a question; “Where is he anyway? Oh and Kenma now that I think about it.” 

Bokuto smiled, “Ah, they went to grab lunch across the street, you know how Kenma get’s sometimes, Kuroo said he needed fresh air.” 

Both of the Nekoma assistants nodded, “Ah, that makes sense!” 

Despite Kuroo’s reassuring words and the words he told himself at Kenma’s a month back, he couldn’t help but let his mind roam for the remaining half hour of their break. 

In this time, Bokuto flitted from crowd to crowd, hanging out and getting into conversations with everyone. 

But at the same time, despite trying to distract himself, he couldn’t help but feel as though he had frightened Akaashi last night. 

_Which is the last thing I promised myself I would do…_

No matter how many people he talked to, he just couldn't seem to get last night out of his mind.

_They were so close, afterall._

Why had Akaashi pulled away so fast and practically jumped out of the car door last night? Was it because Bokuto _had_ scared him? Was it because they were too close? 

_Great,_ Bokuto told himself, _Of course I scared him away. Whoo hoo for you Bokuto!!_

Bokuto looked up, eyes following the vogue assistants and directors around, figuring that break must be over soon. 

For no reason at all, his gaze seemed to narrow in on a particular redhead director, the one that would be working with him for his and Kuroo’s shoot.

He couldn’t help but sense something familiar about her, and her freckles that littered her cheeks..

_Oh._

It suddenly felt as though someone had just slapped Bokuto round the face. 

_She looks a lot like Yukie…_

_Akaashi’s date._

_God damn it. Why do I always have to push at things I shouldn't be? Of course Akaashi jumped out of the car last night. Don’t you remember what he told you that night at his? He is straight._

_Straight Bokuto. You idiot._

But that doesn’t explain the _tension_ between them. It didn’t happen every time they were alone, but it happened more often than it should for just being _really good friends…_

_Why has everything happened so fast? It’s only been what? Two months._

All those heart racing moments that made Bokuto wanting _more._

Felt as though he _needed_ them more. 

He swears he isn’t going crazy. In those times where they are alone together, Akaashi lingers, even if it’s just for a few moments before pulling away.

_It was almost as if he could feel Akaashi wanting more too…_

_Stop it Bokuto, you’re just being delusional as usual, things are already great the way they are. You’ve got a trustworthy assistant for once!_

“Alright everyone, let’s get back to work! If everyone could please pair up with their assigned partner in front of their set, that’d be great!” The megaphone blared through the room. 

When Bokuto looked up, Akaashi was looking straight into his eyes from across the room. 

Akaashi smiled. 

_He almost felt as if god was toying with him…_

###### 

Akaashi and Kenma had arrived back just in time, hearing the megaphone cut off. They stood in front of the sets again, making idle chat like they had done at lunch whilst waiting for the models to get dressed into Spring collection clothes. 

Then they all filtered out, each being directed to set where a photographer and a Vogue director were. 

Akaashi and Kenma observed all the pairings, finding them all very well put together. 

In set one there was Kuroo and Bokuto; which had the front page feature this time round as they were Nekoma and Fukurodani’s top models. 

Set two hosted Kai and Washio; seeing as they were both tall and handsome, Akaashi thought they fit well together. 

Set three hosted Komi and Shibayama; Akaashi figured they had been paired for the same reasons as the previous two, but well, for the reason of being _short._ This set was also the one that the pair Konoha and Yamamoto would be sharing too, since they couldn't fit six sets in one room. 

Set four held Onaga, Fukunaga, and Inouka; This set holding three altogether being as Inouka was a newbie to Nekoma, so thought for his first client, and it being a major one at that, they would pair him with someone he knew to be more comfortable. 

And lastly in set five, there was _— “Wait a minute,_ is that Lev and Yaku?” Akaashi spun around, a shocked face directed at Kenma. 

“Ah yeah. Bokuto must have forgotten to tell you, but assistants can model too within the Japan firms. But it’s only a new introduced thing as that’s not what they signed up for, after all. But the offer is there.”

Akaashi was shocked but thought it made sense nonetheless. “Oh, that’s actually a really great idea. I supposed Lev and Yaku accepted it then,” Akaashi hummed.

“Yeah I mean, they have done this before, but not for something so major. I know they dont like to do it all the time though.” 

Akaashi nodded, understanding. 

_What’s the point in applying for the assistant job in the first place,_ he reasoned. 

Nevertheless, he found it an amazing idea and opportunity for the assistants. 

Kuroo and Bokuto were being set up, both of them being told that they were standing up for the front cover photo. Kuroo was to pose standing up, and Bokuto was directed to lean his elbow on top of his shoulder whilst he was bent forwards slightly, his face more sticking out to the camera. Whereas Kuroo was to be standing slightly angled, one hand in his pocket and the other holding the bottom of his jacket end. 

Kuroo’s attire was a soft fabric, white polo shirt with a silver chain slung around his neck. Over the top of the polo was a black blazer-jacket, which stopped at the top of his thighs. It was paired with navy blue cuffed jeans, the cuffs rolled up enough to stop just above the anklet of his black boots, a silver and black thick belt holding them up. 

Akaasshi thought that the outfit they had chosen for Kuroo suited him extremely well, and Akaashi found it rather ironic that in his everyday life, that wasn’t his style _at all,_ according to Kenma.

He looked over to Kenma, not missing the way he obviously thought the same things as Akaashi. 

Except in Kenma’s mind, he was wishing he had never come. Seeing Kuroo look the way he did right now, he would have just rather stayed at home instead of bare witness to the oh so obvious _smirk_ Kuroo had sent his way. 

Kenma ducked his head, flushing, and whipped out his phone to pretend to check emails and texts. 

He prayed Akaashi hadn’t noticed. 

Which thankfully, the blue eyed assistant hadn’t. 

He had been rather too preoccupied, focusing on Fukurodani’s top model in front of him. 

Luckily, _thank the stars,_ Bokuto’s outfit was nowhere near as suggestive as the first, but he still looked really handsome. 

Bokuto was adorned with a soft knitted black turtleneck, which was thin as it was for spring after all, and a long, knee length beige coat. Light blue, stonewashed cuffed jeans had been paired with it, the same belt Kuroo was wearing on Bokuto too. He was also wearing black combat boots to tie the look altogether. 

From where Akaashi was standing, and the way Bokuto had been positioned forward, the coat’s weight bearing forwards too, Akaashi noticed that the inside of the beige coat was lined with a silver silk fabric. 

Managing to tear his eyes away with _some_ self restraint, he looked over to the other models. 

Everyone looked rather good, all sporting spring colours such as greens, soft reds, beiges, whites and browns. Most of the fabrics had a striped pattern decorated on them, or had loose fitted button ups paired with cuffed jeans of all sorts for a more casual look. 

One set in particular caught his eye. 

He looked over to the very end, where Yaku and Lev were. 

Yaku was wearing a loose fitted, striped button up, the top few buttons undone, showing off a fair amount of his toned chest. The colour of the shirt was red and beige, the colours complimenting each other well as they alternated in each stripe, dark blue formal slacks paired with it. 

For such a short man, Akaashi thought he had rather broad shoulders. 

Standing next to him, leaning in slightly with a carefully positioned arm around his shorter friend, Lev’s outfit matched Yaku’s rather well. He was wearing a white and gray horizontal striped button up, yet again, the top few left undone. However, instead of showing his chest like Yaku, a thin white vest was lined underneath. The sleeves were quarter cut, accentuating the silver haired man’s long arms rather nicely. 

It was also paired with light brown slacks, the same colour as Yaku’s hair in the fact it was almost beige. They were loose fitted, but strongly cut, reaching just above his ankles but on purpose, finishing off with brown loafers. 

Even Kenma had complimented them on how he thought that this was their best shoot yet. 

Akaashi had to admit, they looked really good together, and he smiled at the thought of how they must be happy doing something like that together, despite being assistants. 

After a few more shoots, and two changes of clothes for each pair, and about ten poses and different directions later, the main shooting part eventually came to an end. 

From outside the windows, the sun was just starting to set, the main room's lights now fully bathed in bright oranges and yellows. 

After everyone had slowly finished up their shoots, the directors had also taken them out to other little rooms for separate interviews with their pairs, seeing as it would be a column feature next to the photo spread. 

Eventually, everyone had gotten changed back into their basic shirts and joggers, all saying goodbye and slapping the backs of their close friends at Nekoma, hoping that they would be getting more opportunities like this again soon. 

They all shook hands with the Vogue hires and wished them well and they will stay in touch with phone calls and emails. 

All in all, Akaashi had found it to be a really nice day, seeing why Kenma always came and enjoyed them too, as well as for the support. 

He was standing in Nekomas main office now, Kenma and Bokuto waiting for Kuroo to grab his stuff from his office and lock up. 

Once they had opened the main doors of the building and filtered out onto the pavement, they all sighed in relief, enjoying the early chilly spring breeze tickling their cheeks. 

The sky was navy now, that weird in between moment where the sun hadn’t fully gone down, but there were no orange sunset streets painted across the sky either. 

Kuroo yawned, stretching his long arms behind his head, “Well, that was an eventful day. I enjoyed it though, hopefully our two companies can collab again soon,” he said, softly hitting Bokuto in the arm. 

Bokuto chuckled, “Yeah, I really enjoyed it too, it was nice! What did you two think of it, I know it must have probably been boring just standing there all day but, what did you think?!” 

Kenma already had his eyes glued to his little game console as soon as they were out of the building, but hummed in agreement. 

Bokuto, used to his language by now, took that as a really good compliment. 

“What about you ‘Kaashi!” He turned to his assistant excitedly. 

“Yes Bokuto-san, I thought it was rather satisfying to watch, all the clothes they had picked out suited everyone extremely well,” Akaashi responded, smiling at the man. 

Kuroo raised his eyebrows, knowing that whatever Bokuto had panicked over earlier was probably just an air of awkwardness they had, even him and Kenma got it sometimes.

It was completely normal. 

“Come on pudding! Let’s go home!” Kuroo said quite loudly, pointing in the direction of Kenma’s penthouse.

Kenma huffed as they waved goodbye to their two close friends, mumbling as they walked away, “Don’t say that as if you own the place or live there, idiot,” But had a little playful lilt to his voice at the same time. 

Kuroo smirked, looking down at him even though his eyes were plastered to his game.

If Kenma had heard Kuroo’s murmured response of; “Yeah well, I might as well be,” then he hadn’t chosen to respond. 

Kuroo figured it must have been the traffic. 

###### 

After Kuroo and Kenma had left, Bokuto turned to Akaashi excitedly, “Hey Akaashi, it’s still cool if I come round yours after tomorrow right, like normal?” 

He asked somewhat shyly as they waited for Bokuto’s transport to pick them up and drop Akaashi back off at his place, the atmosphere between them back to normal, like nothing had ever happened in the first place.

Akaashi faltered, thinking for a few moments. 

_Wait…what’s happening tomorrow for Bokuto to not come round?_

_Oh. I have a date._

Seriously? He had been so distracted by Bokuto today that he had almost forgotten about his date tomorrow. 

_Stupid, Keiji._

He looked up at Bokuto, almost forgetting to respond to him, too. “Yes of course Bokuto-san, that isn't going to change,” He smiled up at the top model as he said it. 

It was peculiar. Even those words alone, which should have upset Bokuto even more, seemed to have reassured him in just one sentence. 

Bokuto’s face lit up, the transport pulling up at the same time, awaiting them to get in. 

For the ten minute journey to Akaashi’s, there wasn’t a single ounce of awkwardness lingering in the air. 

And as strange as both of them had found it, they were grateful, even able to joke about and have casual conversation. 

Akaashi climbed out once it had pulled up outside his apartment doors, bending down to smile and wave at Bokuto-san goodbye.

###### 

Bokuto had long since gotten home to his place about an hour ago, but still hadn’t checked his phone, instead opting for a shower to soothe himself right away. 

However, once he had checked his phone, he wished he never had. 

There were eight missed calls from his parents, seven of them being his mother. 

Bokuto sighed, returning the call. 

“Hello dear? What took you so long? Me and your father have been trying to call you all day. Busy as usual though, I like to see. Anyway, I was just checking up to see if you were on for tomorrow night?”

 _Jeez._

Bokuto had only just rang his mother back, and after a split second was already talking so fast that it had even made Bokuto feel like he couldn’t breathe. 

_Wait...what’s going on tomorrow night?_

He racked his brain, trying to think. 

_Shit. It’s our meet up at the restaurant._

He could not believe that he had almost forgotten. 

All of this stuff going on with Akaashi and his own feelings, and how Akaashi had a date tomorrow night had made him forget his own schedule. 

Every two months, him and his parents would meet up at a secluded restaurant to have a catch up. Well, it wasn’t _secluded_ as such, more like too damn expensive for anyone with a right mind not to eat there, being as Bokuto’s mother was a famous japanese singer. 

His father wasn’t famous himself; in fact he had met Bokuto’s mum just as she was starting out her career. And it was herself that got Bokuto into the model agency. 

Well, _pressured_ is the more fitting word. 

Bokuto internally groaned, rubbing his fingers across his forehead to soothe a headache he felt forming there already. 

“Yes mother, I will be there at the normal time.”

He could picture the anticipating smile on her face on the other end of the line, already having a mental list of all the questions she was going to ask her son and about any ‘Life changing choices yet?’

She hung up, seemingly pleased with his answer, not even a ‘goodbye’ or ‘I’ve missed you’. 

He began to feel beads of sweat forming on his skin. 

Bokuto _hated_ this meet up with his parents. 

Luckily it only happened every two months, concerning their busy and tight knit schedules. 

All the pressure and expectations she had laid out for her son since the day he was born, well, it was partly the reason he hadn’t come out to her yet. 

He was surprised that neither of his parents had figured it out yet either, considering all the fan posts and twitter accounts and magazine shoots they blatantly got him to do. 

_Although, perhaps it made him glad that only they didn’t know…_

“Oh well,” He huffed out to himself in his large, otherwise empty apartment. 

He climbed into bed, wrapping himself up tightly. 

_“I guess i’ll just have to figure it all out eventually…”_

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update again, I just really haven't been feeling it lately, and I felt as though this chapter could have been a thousand times better too...I ended up changing it around a lot from my original notes too ahah.
> 
> not to mention that when i was editing this,, i forgot to close an italic bracket so had to go through my work all over, only for me to finish, then my page refreshed and didn't save the draft even though i did literally a minute beforehand ;) So yeah... it was great!! And then this happened four more times... I got it done on the fifth attempt haha!! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it all the matter!! I guess that was the last lighthearted chapter for a while hmm :( *Evil laughs* 
> 
> much love, ~ Bon <3


	7. Numb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot to this chapter, like information and back story wise so heads up!! I hope I did him justice :) 
> 
> Also there is smut towards the end of this chapter, so if you don't want to read skip at the line "He didn’t feel so alone anymore, with just his thoughts plaguing his mind." 
> 
> to "He headed straight towards his bedroom, making a beeline to his bed."

_I'm not a saint, but I could be if I tried  
Lord knows I've got habits to break  
I'm really good at being good at goodbyes  
I'm gonna give you fair warning that I  
I'm not a saint, but I could be if I tried  
Lord knows I don't learn from mistakes  
And I'm not here unless I'm here by your side  
I'm not a saint, but I could be if I_

_Sober up and settle down, give a little talk  
'Bout how I can't keep from runnin' 'round  
Say it's such a fault, oh, oh  
And I'm sorry I lie so much_

_I'm gonna give you fair warning that I  
Will be the reason for the tears in your eyes_

_I'm not a saint, but I could be if I tried_

_~ I’m Not A Saint (But I Could Be If I Tried), Billy Raffoul_  


###### 

Akaashi was standing beneath the illuminated street lamps of Tokyo city, a few cars rolling past as puddles from the rain that previous morning splashed against the pavements, illuminated billboards reflecting in them from the skyscrapers, shining in the night. 

He fiddled with his hands, pulling at his fingers as he waited outside a little tucked away restaurant in the backstreets. 

He was nervous. 

Okay, maybe nervous was a bit of an understatement. 

He was scared. 

He _needed_ this date to go well. 

It _had_ to. 

He was dressed in a burgundy button up and a black tie, although he thought it was nothing special seeing as it’s what his date saw him wear to work every morning anyway. 

Akaashi sighed and raised his wrist to look at his watch; 7:36 pm.

Yukie was already six minutes late. Akaashi began to pull and tug at his fingers again. 

_Stop Keiji, it’s only been six minutes, stop panicking._

He looked up towards the night sky. It was a clear night tonight, the morning rain clouds long since departed. All the stars were out on display, glimmering in the cobalt blue of the sky, being lit up as though someone had strung fairy lights across it. 

_They reminded him of a certain someone…_

###### 

Bokuto’s knee was bouncing up and down so erratically that it was beginning to hit the table from underneath. Luckily no one was sitting close enough to him to realise. 

He was currently sitting in the nook of a prestigious restaurant, waiting for his irksome parents to show up. 

It was rare for him to be early; usually Bokuto was directly on time and they would already be seated, posture unfaltering, her bird-like gaze watching him as he made his way over to pull a chair out and sit down. 

Why he had chosen to get here fifteen minutes early, he did not know. 

It wasn’t like it was calming his nerves or anything. 

If anything, it only made him feel worse. 

Luckily, ever the predictable woman, his mother and father walked through the door right then and there, shrugging off their fur coat and blazer to hand over to the waiter. 

Bokuto swallowed. 

Bokuto Aika was a rather tall but slender woman, always fierce looking with her red painted lips and silky black hair that was always pinned up, or cascading down her back if she was putting on a show. 

His father, Bokuto Yousuke, was a broad shouldered, muscular man. His styled back black hair now streaked with gray. He always cleaned up well and greeted people with a smile on his face and always lended a hand if anyone needed help. It was partly the reason why his and Kuroo’s father got along so well. 

His mother was in front of his father, always the one leading and never following. 

Sometimes Bokuto felt sympathy for his father, knowing that however much he loved his mum, she wasn’t the same woman he fell in love with in the bar that night. 

It seems like fame could change even the best and most kindhearted people in the end. 

But still, he had stuck by her, and although Bokuto’s childhood had been full of endless arguing nights, and slammed doors and smashed vases, it was only out of rage and anger of the media. 

Of the expectations. 

Of the reality and things they don’t show on screen. 

Of the future Bokuto wanted, but ended up being forced, _pressured_ to become. 

Sometimes he wished he hadn’t been born to this woman. 

But he also knew that no matter what, he still loved her. Bokuto understood that all she wanted was for her son to live a good, fulfilling life. And his father wanted the same for him, hence why he would support all of the career choices Bokuto had excitedly told him when he was sat on his knees, giggling as he was being bounced up and down, or as he looked up to his father with that childlike gleam. 

The childlike gleam that had vanished from his eyes at age sixteen, when his mother had come home one night from a show across seas, telling Bokuto and his father that a business man had heard about all the ‘one off’ photoshoots Bokuto did for fun, and would like him to become a full time model when he left highschool. 

A one off thing he did in his free time whenever his mother got a phone call from partnerships, because she was a singer, which also meant she did modeling for a part time too. 

The one time thing Bokuo had done for _fun_ whenever he got given the opportunity from his mother, always doing it on weekends or after volleyball practice. 

The thing he had done for _fun._

Bokuto got up and walked over to where they were, giving a brief side hug to his father out of ‘respect’ and pulling out the chair for his mother to sit in. 

His father gave him a bright smile. 

Although Yousuke was rarely outspoken nowadays, he knew that in that one smile _alone,_ stood a thousand words.

###### 

Akaashi was sitting in the restaurant now, his date sitting across from him. 

Yukie had ended up meeting him outside of the restaurant twelve minutes late. She apologised again and again, claiming that nerves had got the best of her and that she ended up tearing her wardrobe apart to find something different to wear about eight times. 

Akaashi had said it was fine, and that it was chilly outside and that they should get seated and order food to warm themselves up, especially since he hadn’t eaten all day and he was _starving._

So that’s where he was currently sitting. Opposite Yukie who was wearing an elegant, emerald, sleek fit dress, hugging her in all the right places. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, matching the neatness of her put together look. 

Of course, being the gentleman he was, and still kicking himself from how rude he was the morning he gave her an answer, Akaashi had pulled out Yukie’s chair for her, and even helped tuck her in before he went to sit down in his own seat. 

They made idle small talk, Yukie’s excitable and extroverted demeanor bringing a slight smile upon Akaashi’s own lips. Whenever Yukie made Akaashi laugh, the sunniest grin lit up her face; knowing how much of an accomplishment it must have been for her. 

They ordered dinner and chatted about anything and everything. 

Akaashi marvelled at how everything was going so well, and how easy it was to talk to her. 

He sat wondering in the back of his mind why he had been so nervous in the first place...

###### 

Bokuto was mindlessly staring at the overpriced menu in front of him. 

He ran his eyes back and forth up and down the menu for what seemed like an eternity. Luckily his parents were making enough harmless conversation for him to settle down his nerves somewhat; but he also knew that it would vanish soon. 

The waiter came up to their table, asking for their orders. Bokuto still hadn’t chosen, too busy in his thoughts to even worry about what food he would like to eat. 

He heard his mother tut. 

He mustn't have answered the waiter, still staring down at the table cloth as he heard his father order what dish Bokuto routinely got every single time they had their little meet up here. 

He silently thanked him.

“Koutarou, why didn’t you answer the waiter? How rude of you, you better apologise once he comes back with our order.” 

_Ah._

There it was. 

Okay, maybe Bokuto had been a _little_ rude to the waiter, but still, no one could blame him when he had a thousand things running through his head at a million miles per second. 

Bokuto looked up from where his gaze had been glued to the table, but still never fully met his mother’s look back. Instead, he settled his eyes on the golden broach that was pinned on his mother's red and black lotus flower gown. 

“Of course mother,” Bokuto gave his monotone answer. If he didn’t his mother would most likely throw another fit, and he really was not in the mood for that tonight. 

He wasn’t in the mood for _anything._

_Although a particular set of stormy eyes came into his mind…_

“How is everything at Fukurodani?” His mother cut through his thoughts. “I recently heard that you got shoots to advertise Vogue Japan's spring collection. I’m very happy about that.” 

Bokuto perked up a bit. This was something he could talk about willingly without being upset or worried about. 

It hadn’t always been like this… It was once different, a more happier atmosphere. 

Bokuto sometimes wished his mother never got the call from Fukurodani’s Ceo that evening. 

But then again, it wasn’t always bad. He still enjoyed modeling, don't get him wrong, he took pride in it, and it shone through him being the top model for two years in a row. 

Just sometimes, his mother really drained the life and fun out of it. 

The way Bokuto had come to think about it was if you knew you had to do the dishes, and was perfectly fine doing them, but then your mother came storming in and pressured you to do them, although you were already happily about to do it on your own.

“Yeah, lately has been more fun than usual, not only was it for vogue, but we finally got to collaborate with Nekoma! That also means since Kuroo is the top model there, we both get the front page together!”

Aika smiled her sweet, sickly smile, obviously thinking that Bokuto’s way of talking was way too excitable for the type of place they were situated in. 

Bokuto wanted to curl in on himself, but at the same time also felt the need to roll his eyes. 

Yousuke grinned, his bright smile blatantly passed down to what Bokuto had inherited himself. He had always been fond of Kuroo when his son was growing up, Kenma too. 

“Speaking of Kuroo,” his father finally chipped in, “How has he been?” 

Bokuto nodded sharply, reassuring his father that Kuroo was, in fact, doing extremely well, and their mindless chatter carried effortlessly on until their orders had been carefully placed in front of them. 

His mother didn’t smile _once,_ as she watched her son and husband converse happily. 

Bokuto supposed that whatever they were talking about had probably become too ‘mundane’ to her everyday lifestyle that she so carefully threaded together. 

Bokuto admired her - he always had. And he also knew all too well that if his father had gotten sick and tired of her by now, he would have left long, long ago. 

If Bokuto didn’t know any better, or if there was some alternate, parallel universe out there, he would have placed his bets that it could have been either one of his parents walking out when he was in middle school. 

Maybe his father would have left because the growing fame of Aika became too much for him. Or maybe it could have even been Bokuto’s _own_ growing popularity, with everything to do with all the photoshoot and modeling offers he got growing up, all from Aika’s agents herself. 

Maybe his mother would have left too, getting too _bored_ of Yousuke, claiming something along the lines of ‘I’m not getting any younger’, explaining she needed to spread her wings more. 

When Bokuto thought about it, deeply and truly thought about it, he supposed his childhood could have turned out a lot worse. 

And he was also extremely grateful for being raised in such a loving and caring home. He always had the ‘normality’ of life through his father and friends in highschool, who all started out their own modeling careers much later. 

It wasn’t until his mother had gotten that dreadful phone call from Fukurodani that night that modeling had begun to take away all of his own career and life choices he wanted to pave on his own. 

Make his _own journey._

The journey that he was excited to pave his own way in life for. 

And that’s when his homelife all came crashing down…

Yeah, his mum and dad had argued before, everyday life things, or even still things to do with his mother’s famous career. But that was before Bokuto had been dragged into it. 

The second he started participating in a _more than just a hobby way,_ Bokuto had long since realised that certain things had stopped becoming a normal, daily routine for him. 

He already had to deal with the famousness of his mother, but luckily the paparazzi were never lucky enough to find out where they all lived in their first home. 

But then Bokuto’s fame started to grow. 

And grow.

And _grow._

There’s a reason why he is one of the longest, and youngest reigning top models for one of the most famous companies. 

And with his growing fame, Bokuto had to say goodbye to his childhood. 

Goodbye to the maternity affection from his already somewhat emotionally shut off mother. 

Goodbye to the peaceful movie nights that him and his father used to have when Aika had come back home from an overseas performance or shoot. 

Goodbye to his future career chats with his father.

 _Goodbye_ to his sense of freedom that every teenager should be able to call ‘the best moments of their life’. 

However, that was when his early days in worldwide fame had begun to break out, often having to model with his hair over his forehead because of his still healing acne there. But after all, they had no problem with that as long as he had a ‘pretty face’ and was the son of one of Japan’s most famous singers and models. 

Bokuto only really had the normality left through his school friends and volleyball club, the one thing he said he would _run away from home for_ if his mother had taken his beloved sport away too. 

She had already taken enough of Bokuto’s favourite things, claiming if the media got hold of his hobbies and the way he acted, it would bring shame into their homelife. 

_Like Bokuto hadn’t already been aware of it._

He already felt worse enough about his little mood swings he had, hence why he never _ever_ was around his mother when they took place. His father always covered for him though, always having his back. 

Not when the unshed tears that were glittering in his golden flecked eyes, shaking, begging, _promising_ his father not to tell Aika about Bokuto having his mood swings, causing him to be locked up in his room for days on end. Yousuke knew, staring down into those wide owl eyes right then and there, he would do what his son pleaded of him. 

He didn’t understand _why_ exactly at first, but unlike his mother, Yousuke didn’t need an explanation. 

He _never_ did. 

He had always thought that Bokuto should have been able to have a normal highschool life. 

But Aiko had said otherwise.  
Instead claiming that this was what was best for him to have a good, stable future, instead of the reliability of being a professional volleyball player, or some other fabricated kids dream.

But when all was said and done, didn’t Aiko’s career muster from all but a dream too? 

We all have to start from somewhere, right? 

But unlike everyone else, his mother had the privilege of being _born_ into wealth, never knowing the hardships of working hard for a career or having a dream. 

She had just been born and dropped into a fame world, and she never had any complaints. 

His mother had found out eventually, she was bound to. 

After two weeks off in another part of Japan, Aiko had come home only to find out that Bokuto had missed a whole week of school. 

He still remembers the argument that Yousuke and Aiko had got into that day, their expensive flower vase knocked and smashed over, off the dining room table. The way the neighbours had complained about all the noise. The way Bokuto had been dragged out of his room by his mother's vice-like grip, demanding he’d explain right now, especially since he had no signs of a fever. 

The way his mother had slammed the front door shut at 11pm, stating she was going to go out for a drink. 

The way his father, after she had left, held his hands in his face, sitting on the couch as a small Bokuto approached him warily to hug him. 

Really: was there no wonder to how and why Bokuto’s ‘emo modes’ from his already cheerful demeanor had morphed into something else? 

Festered into something _more?_

Into something that sent him head first into downward spirals and expectations?

Sometimes, they got _so bad,_ that he would have had time off school for even multiple weeks. 

His mother had to eventually come to terms with the reality of it. 

Bokuto had thought that she never would have, back in his long, suffocating highschool and middle school days. But his father had always held hope. Bokuto had always admired that about him. 

It had already been two years since Bokuto had first come padding into the front room, now looking at his father in his first year of highschool, _knowing_ there was something else going on within him. 

Something _more_ than just his downplayed ‘emo modes’. 

And it was almost exactly two years after that the day came where Aiko had finally had enough. 

_Seen and heard enough of it._

Bokuto had had his worst bout of it yet, worse than any time off he had had in the previous two years. He knew moving in his first year was going to have an effect on him, especially with everything else going on. 

But being in a completely new environment, suddenly getting more and more model offers, and the almost seemingly _never ending_ berating of his mother’s nagging, had him spiraling downwards than what he hadn’t even fathomed to experience as of yet. 

Bokuto’s slump had gotten so bad, that he had to take three weeks off of school. 

Halfway through his first year of highschool, completely thrown into making new friends, joining a new volleyball team, _despite everything else he already had to deal with at such a young age._

The beginning of that horrendous third week, his parents both thought it was time to see a doctor. 

After hours of waiting in the eerie, dull painted walls of the hospital room, they finally got given a diagnosis. 

Bokuto Koutarou had _Manic depression._

Or otherwise known as: 

_Bipolar Disorder._

He still remembers the look that his mother gave him after those two words were uttered into the void. 

Those sympathetic, remorseful eyes. 

Not the kind you would usually look at someone you loved deeply for in a normal circumstance, no. But those kind of eyes you glanced at someone with as if their life was already over before it had barely just begun. 

Like a wounded animal that would be better off _put down_ to be done with. 

He had those eyes ingrained on his brain. 

From then on out, his mother tried to be more caring towards her son. But there were times where old habits never left and ghosts came back knocking on doors. 

Nothing seemed to have changed within his mother. 

If that were the case, wouldn’t she have listened to Bokuto’s pleas? His cries of help before he got offered more modelling jobs? 

Would she not have _listened_ to her son, even after the diagnosis, and let him carry on putting all of his 120% effort into something that he fully loved? Something he knew he would never get bored or give up on?

_Something more like volleyball?_

His original plan and dream that his father had always been supportive of since day one? 

But still, even until _this_ day, Bokuto still knows that somewhere, deep down inside of his mother’s own treasure chest of locked away thoughts, she still hadn't come to terms with how Bokuto got into his ‘slumps’. 

No matter how many times growing up, she only _tried_ to help Bokuto. _She never gave him what he needed._ Not willingly. 

His father had always tried to help, always stepping in at the right times, _giving_ him what his son needed most. 

Bokuto feels pity on himself that he still feels the need to not blame his mother. 

He didn’t, _still doesn't,_ want to come to terms with accepting that maybe she had been the cause of his bipolar disorder, why his moods had gotten so bad to what they eventually had manifested into. 

_Why all of his assistants had walked out of him._

_Why all of his relationships had never lasted._

He remembers _those eyes_ on him every time the routine never ceases to break. 

So of course Bokuto had been all too well accustomed to the shame he had bought upon his family name. 

Especially since now he had a label plastered under his name in bold. 

Even despite all of the hardships Bokuto had to suffer with in his childhood days, there were still people that made it bearable. 

Even though it had completely torn the rug out from beneath his very shoes, he found friends in highschool. He had found his _best friends._

If Bokuto thought about it, the only thing that he was grateful for from his mother in his younger years was the fact that her better job offer had landed her to live in tokyo, causing them to all move from where they previously lived. 

Without moving, he would have never met _Kuroo and Kenma._

He would have never been the _ace_ of the volleyball team. 

He wouldn’t be the person who he is today without none of what he had gained. No matter how small it was, those two people and that one title was his beacon of light during trying times. 

And the best thing about his new close friends was that they _understood._

They understood Bokuto and all of his emo modes, slumps, moodswings, hyperness, sadness.  
Understood every single one of his highs and lows. The best things about him and his flaws. 

Who _Bokuto Koutarou_ was as a human being. 

A normal person. 

And he meant just as much to them as they did to him. 

Even after the path that his mother had so very clearly laid out for her son since the day he was born, the life and path she pressured him to take, all of the vanished ‘well dones!’ and ‘I’m proud of yous’ that had turned into ‘Look at how famous you are getting’ and ‘Look at the media about you’, Bokuto had still somehow made it through the _crushing,_ agonising pressure and expectations. 

He still was to this very day. 

And the best thing about it, he had everyone he _needed,_ that he had found since day one in that new highschool. 

He had found new people and trustworthy friends with _Fukurodani,_ all of whom had their own stories to tell. 

Hell, even people from the public could somehow lighten his day through twitter accounts and tumblrs and whatnot. 

_There was also someone else that he had found that made him smile more genuine with each passing day._

But somehow, even going through with the life his mother wanted for him, following her every instruction and path she had set, Bokuto couldn’t help but shake this unbearable feeling that it was still not enough. 

_The unshakeable consciousness that it is and was never going to be._

###### 

Akaashi’s leg had stopped bouncing a while ago. 

Instead, now he had found himself sitting across from where Yukie was talking to Akaashi about her previous job (where she had worked as a waitress), but had ultimately left due to too much harassment all the women received at the bar on a Friday and Saturday night. 

She had also told Akaashi that she had the role of being her highschool’s volleyball team manager, to which Akaashi found himself chipping in at nearly every chance he could for the next twenty minutes, stating how in highschool he played the setter position.

Dinner had long been gone, both Akaashi and Yukie being the ‘scoffs down food’ type of person. Even though Akaashi was aware of his surroundings, he still managed to eat somewhat politely, but made nowhere near to the amount of mess that Yukie had made.

It actually brought a smile to Akaashi’s lips. 

“Soooo,” Yukie chimes somewhat cheekily whilst twirling a strand of hair between her fingers, “What do you think about ordering dessert hm? Still got enough room for it?” She wiggled her eyebrows at this, almost as if she was challenging him. 

Akaashi let out a huffed laugh, “Yes, I don't see why not, but I’d doubt I would be able to get through a whole dessert by myself considering just how much I ate.” 

Yukie let out a tinkering laugh, “Well, how about we both just share one then?” 

“Yeah sure, I’ll let you choose of course,” Akaashi answered her. 

Yukie made the big theatrics of whipping the desserts menu from where it lay in the middle of their table, then proceeded to promptly hold it out in front of her, almost as if she was about to read an important speech. 

Akaashi couldn't help but let out a little chuckle at the madness of it all. 

Yukie looked up at him when he did this, obviously still not used to the fact that she was making Akaashi Keiji laugh more than she had even seen a smile grace that mouth of his. 

She couldn't help the flush that spread across her freckled cheeks at the sound of it. 

Around ten minutes later, their dessert presents itself in front of them; in the end Yukie had settled upon a large plate of daifuku. 

It wasn’t until they had been on their last mouthfuls when Yukie first mentions it.

To be honest, he thought he would have had to deal with it a lot sooner. 

Bringing up _his_ name. 

The name that sent shivers down his very being.

Yukie hums, casually chewing on her last piece of daifuku, unbeknown to what she is about to inflict upon the assistant for the remainder of the night. 

“You and Bokuto seem to get along very well,” her words were muffled by the sweet mochi in her mouth, but Akaashi would have been able to recognise that name at any time and situation. 

Akaashi straightened up in his chair a little bit, which Yukie still chatted along; “Everyone agrees how you’re really good for him, the guys chat about how nice you are nonstop, too.” 

Akaashi was taken back; he knew that Kuroo and Kenma had thought the same of him, because they had said it straight to his face, of which Akaashi was very grateful for, considering how close he was with them now. 

It’s not like he was unaware of the fact that the rest of the guys at Fukurodani liked him, because _that_ they had said themselves. 

But not from them when it came down to Bokuto. 

Akaashi was pleased with himself at least. Of course there were many things that he still had to learn, especially when it was things regarding Bokuto, but like he has told himself over and over again, he can only wait until the time comes for him to deal with it. 

From what he has managed to piece together so far, and from what Kuroo and the others have not necessarily warned him about, but more so made him aware of was the fact that Bokuto got into these moods. And other than that, all he knew was that Bokuto had his normal, ‘emo modes’, and then much more serious ones such as ‘slumps’. 

Although Akaashi had yet to witness a harsher, much more serious version of one of his moods so far, all Akaashi could pray for was that he could help Bokuto-san in the best way possible. 

Also proving to everyone else that Akaashi was willing and good enough to be his _personal_ assistant. 

So of course, there were still gaps missing into why and how things had come about, but he figured that when the time was right, Bokuto would tell him. 

He had enough faith in his relationship to be sure of that much, and he hoped Bokuto felt the same way. 

Akaashi bowed his head down slightly in recognition, “Thank you, I suppose that’s very nice to hear,” and gave Yukie a smile for emphasis. 

_How I wished she hadn’t bought Bokuto-san up,_ Akaashi found that annoying little voice in the back of his mind rear its ugly head yet again. 

_This was supposed to be a distraction._

Akaashi tried not to accept the fact of what he just told himself was mildly true. 

Okay - _very, possibly true._

_No no no no Keiji, you are not here right now for a distraction from someone else…_

_You are here because you want to be._

Akaashi tried not to let his overall posture falter in the face of Yukie, who was still sitting in front of him, absentmindedly chewing without a care in the world. 

_Why did she have to bring him up?!_

They finished up their dessert, deciding to order a couple of drinks before making their way home for the night. 

However, little to Yukies knowledge, since the moment she uttered the top model's name, Akaashi couldn’t get him out of his mind. 

He cursed himself, thinking he had done exceptionally well up until now in blocking him from his mind. 

Really, why was he so ignorant as if to think that he could go through the rest of tonight thinking the owl-like man’s name wouldn’t have been bought up at least once? 

For the rest of the remaining night on their little ‘date’, Akaashi couldn’t forget golden, gleaming eyes that lit up at such mundane things, and how his outbursts of laughter make him feel as though he is on top of the world…

_No Keiji, look at the woman sitting right in front of you._

_You’re on a date for a reason._

He couldn’t help the little nagging voice that told him it was for all the wrong reasons. 

_Stop it._

He wondered if he was a terrible person, or if Bokuto was okay right now, probably at home watching another show that he was going to recommend to Akaashi that they watch tomorrow night. 

Akaashi found himself looking forward to it…

_Stop Keiji, focus on the now, who’s right in front of you._

He really, _really_ wished that Yukie hadn’t bought up Bokuto’s name…

###### 

Bokuto had barely touched his dinner. 

Instead he just sat there, picking at it with his fork. 

He tried to block out the glares from the woman opposite him. 

_Seriously, what is up with me? I’m not one to lose my appetite unless…_

_No no Bokuto, that hasn’t happened in a while, dinner will be over soon, just don’t fold and get through it like usual._

It was only a matter of time before his mother started to go off on one yet again, only a matter of time until she asked Bokuto _that_ dreaded question of the night.

Speak of the devil…

“So Koutarou, have you found a beautiful young girl to settle down with yet?” She pressed her son, placing her knife and fork down neatly beside her unfinished meal. 

_There it was…_

Bokuto abruptly shook his head, repeating the same answer he said every single two months to his mother, “No, not yet mother.” 

His mother tutted for what must have been the hundredth time of the evening, “That’s no good, you know you are not getting any younger.” 

Bokuto looked up at her then, meeting her eyes for the first time of the night, “I know that, but i’m still only twenty five, I have plenty of time.” 

He wished he had enough courage to tell her. 

To tell the both of them...but what if it changed everything? Making it all worse than what it already was?

Images started to flood Bokuto’s mind; memories of ocean blue eyes came rushing forward, waves of messy black hair, the storminess in unamused glares, the tilt of a sharp smirk.

He could still hear the muffled complaints spurring out of his mother's mouth, but that was all drowned by the pictures in the front of his mind. 

Images of stuffed onigiri cheeks, the smudge of karashi dressing on the corner of lips, glowing sapphire eyes reflecting in the darkness of the night, soft expressions and eased eyebrows looking out of car windows. 

High pitched giggles and low chuckles, flushed cheeks as a result of tickle fights…

Of peanut butter cookies and coffee’s in the dawn of morning, of desk corners and swinging legs. 

Bokuto couldn’t block it out any longer…

He didn't _want_ to. 

He knew he was probably going to regret his next actions, but to hell with it. He couldn’t keep putting up with this any longer. 

A chair screeched across a tiled floor, causing everyone in the restaurant to turn their heads in their direction. 

Bokuto couldn’t care less if he were being honest. 

All he wanted was to _go home._

There was only so much of it that he could take at the end of the day.

“Excuse me,” are the only words he can muster, and one quick, short glance at his father before he is taking off out of the restaurant. 

As soon as he gets further away from where he left his bewildered parents, he slows down his pace, his mind an onslaught of emotions. 

Before he even knew where he was heading, he found himself outside of Akaashi’s, his neck craned up towards the apartment. He stood there, both feet planted on the ground, staring into the cloudless night sky that is shimmering with stars. 

He knew it must have been around 11:30pm by now. 

Bokuto ambles towards the entryway, going to press the pads of his fingers against apartment No.20 

Just before his fingers press against the cold, metallic buzzer, he remembers something. 

_Oh._

_Akaashi is on his date right now…_

Bokuto turns right back around, dropping his outstretched arm. 

For the rest of the way home, Bokuto walked with his head held down. 

Not out of fear for the public, but out of sorrow for his own actions and feelings. 

###### 

Akaashi just walked through the front door of his apartment, throwing his keys into the bowl as he took his shoes off. 

He trudged into the kitchen, turned on the rushing tap on and poured himself a glass of water. 

His back pressed against the hard surface of his countertops from the way he was leaning against it, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Not when he knew his plan had failed. 

His date and _mindset_ failed. 

Akaashi looked towards the clock above the table; 11:23pm.

He sighed, the loud sound resounding off of the empty walls of his apartment.The rest of the date had gone well, just like it had from the moment they had both sat down, and Akaashi was happy.

It had been going extremely well, but Akaashi knew why he was doing it. 

Why he had accepted the offer from Yukie that morning she had asked him. 

_If only yukie hadn’t bought Bokuto up towards the end of it…_

It wasn’t her fault though, and of course Akaashi knew this. He couldn't blame the woman, not when she was as incredible and charming and kind as herself. Akaashi just wished he let her down lightly in the first place. 

Now he had to look forward to how he was going to deal with it, being the stupid idiot he was. 

_I’m such a horrible person,_ Akaashi berated himself.

 _Why? Why did you have to agree? What did you think it was going to do? Just automatically solve all of your problems and frustrations?_

_Don’t be stupid Keiji._

Akaashi sat his glass down harshly, leaning his elbows on the countertop, face buried into his hands. 

_Why?_

_Why_ couldn't Akaashi get his thoughts in order? Why couldn’t he be a normal human being and confront his feelings? 

_Why couldn’t he get Bokuto out of his head?_

“The date went well Keiji, pull yourself together,” he mumbled into his hands.

_Ugh._

Akaashi figured he just needed to relax, and decided a nice, long relaxing shower would suffice. 

He opened his bathroom door, peeling off his clothes before throwing them into the laundry basket. He twisted the handles of the shower, letting the steam from the hot water envelop him in the small room. 

Once his mirror had steamed up, he hopped into the shower, sighing and relaxing his tense muscles as the warm water soaked him. 

Akaashi stood underneath the head of the shower, scalding hot water spraying over him for what almost felt like an eternity. It felt comforting in a way. The hotness and warmth from the steam and water. 

He didn’t feel so alone anymore, with just his thoughts plaguing his mind. 

Tonight had gone well, and Akaashi had fully enjoyed himself. 

He knew the route of his problems, and he was going to fix that. 

But there was one problem…

_He just couldn’t get Bokuto out of his head._

Images of yesterday rampaged through his mind, Bokuto sitting pretty on that metal stall,  
Bokuto with his hair slicked back, Bokuto with that feral look in his eyes. Bokuto with his tight chiffon shirt and stretched black slacks. 

_No no no Keiji, imagine freckled cheeks and elegant emerald dresses…_

Akaashi, who couldn’t get the damn top model out of his head with the way Bokuto had his lips slightly parted, the way it left his mouth open. Bokuto, who sat with his legs agape, causing the fabric to nearly burst at the seam from his muscular thighs. Akaashi was beginning to grow hard from just thinking about it. 

Akaashi found himself wanting to know what Bokuto’s lips would feel like moving against his own. He wanted to know what it felt like if he parted his mouth open for him, letting Bokuto slide his tongue up and down his own. 

Without an ounce of any coherence, Akaashi found his hand travelling downwards. He wrapped his hand around his length, his whole body shuddering from just the simple touch. It had been a while since he had done anything like this. 

Akaashi began to slide his hand up and down his length, jerking his hips forward from the already pleasurable friction from the slickness of the water. He imagined what it would feel like if Bokuto was right here with him, trying to picture Bokuto’s large calloused palm running over his head. 

Akaashi let out a shuddering breath, his hips now rutting a slow, steady rhythm into his hand.  
He arched his neck up, squeezing his eyes shut towards the ceiling, laying one on his palms flat against the shower wall for purchase.

He wondered what kind of sounds Bokuto would make in a heated moment like this. Would he be loud like his usual cheery self? Or would he be unusually quiet, the room filled with heaving breathing and harsh pants from the man instead?

 _God,_ Akaashi wanted to know what it would feel like if Bokuto was in—

Akaashi let out a moan at the thought of it, his hand pumping his length at a quicker, more harsher and rapid pace. He felt his hips steadily beginning to lose their rhythm, now thrusting his hips into his palm in an erratic, uncontrollable way. 

His lips parted slightly, his brow creasing as his knuckles clenched tightly on the wet shower wall.  
He imagined Bokuto crawling downwards, leaving a blazing hot trail in his wake, before reaching Akaashi and taking him in his mouth, hitting the back of his throat. 

He pictured Bokuto with his face flushed red, all the way down to his chest. His hair fallen limp from the sweat and heat of grinding into Akaashi. The way Bokuto would moan Keiji’s name as he thrust into him. 

Akaashi gasped, his eyes flying wide open as he moaned Bokuto-san’s name, heaving breaths falling from his lips. He came hard and fast, his hips arched upwards, moan echoing off the bathroom walls. 

Akaashi felt limp, leaning his forehead against the shower wall, the tiles still remaining somewhat cooler. He shut his eyes once again, trying to calm himself down from his high. 

Then the reality of all what happened hit him like a Tsunami. 

He finished up as quickly as he could, shutting taps off and drying himself down as he put on clean pajama pants. 

He headed straight towards his bedroom, making a beeline to his bed. 

He had a plan. He had a way to solve all of _this._ The second Yukie asked him that morning, he thought it could have worked. 

Why was Akaashi so ignorant? 

He was supposed to be thinking about _her._

 _So why had he just been thinking of someone else?_

Akaashi slipped under his covers, not evening bothering to worry about setting his alarm or getting his clothes out for work the next morning. 

Needless to say, Akaashi Keiji felt nothing but _numb._

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! I really appreciate comments and kudos haha :) 
> 
> Also the name 'Aika' means 'love song'. I chose this as I thought it was fitting considering her career lol. 
> 
> The name 'Yousuke' means 'meditate like the ocean' which I thought suited him in general and his personality, just like Kuroo's father! ;)


	8. 'Like I See You'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> slowest of slow burns...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah... I'm very sorry?!? Ahhhh

_I see you when you're down  
And depressed, just a mess  
I see you when you cry  
When you're shy  
When you want to die  
I see you when you smile  
It takes a while  
At least you're here  
I see you  
Yes, I see you_

_I see you when you hide  
And when you lie, it's no surprise  
I see you when run from the light  
Within your eyes_

_I'm alone with you  
You're alone with me  
And I'm hoping that you will see yourself  
Like I see you_

_~ I See You, Missio_  


###### 

Bokuto was balancing on the edge between reality and a fuzzy state of unconsciousness. 

He thought his mind was playing tricks on him, that much was certain; because why else would he be in the predicament he was currently in otherwise? 

Akaashi was mouthing up and down Bokuto’s jaw, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down to his neck and then collarbone, nipping gently at where Bokuto’s bones jutted out. Bokuto felt himself gasp, then felt his own hands, almost as if he wasn't in control of himself, grip tightly onto Akaaashi’s hips. 

It only took up until now for Bokuto to realize Akaashi had been sitting on his lap the whole time. He gripped his fingers into the black haired assistant above him, feeling the need to leave his mark upon Akaashi’s body. 

As soon as he squeezed his hips however, he felt a shiver reverberate through the younger man’s whole entire being. 

Bokuto never wanted whatever this was to end. 

Feeling a sudden urge of confidence surge through himself, Bokuto gripped Akaashi’s chin, pulling him down towards his own mouth. For as harshly as Bokuto may have seemed to yank Akaashi down towards him, he was making sure to move his mouth against the ocean eyed man in a soft, caring way. 

Bokuto was too scared to make the kiss any deeper; he didn’t want to _hurt_ Akaashi. 

Not when he had scared him away all those other times, not when he might cause the one assistant that wanted to _stay,_ run away, and _certainly_ not now. 

He didn’t want Akaashi to leave him. Not now, and not _ever._

Even through his half state of consciousness, Bokuto could feel his emotions all too well. His feelings that he could feel seeping through were dull and empty; yet the beautiful man that he was moving his mouth against ever so softly, _lovingly,_ was the only bright, vivid image Bokuto could make out clearly. 

_The one light at the end of the tunnel._

And he was here with him, right now, perched on top of him, his own smooth hands cupping the top models face in the same way. Akaashi held his face back for a moment, leaning his forehead against Bokuto’s own, hands still holding the model’s flushed cheeks. 

When Bokuto finally managed to open his eyes, he found himself unable to look in anything but the blue he felt himself drowning in. Not when the way he was looking at him set his whole being alight. With just that _one_ look Akaashi’s gaze held him with, Bokuto felt as though he could burn down the whole world to nothing but ashes for him. 

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi murmured, his breathing seeming to have slowed down, able to finally catch his breath. 

Bokuto rubbed his nose against Akaashi’s in way so that it tickled him; giving Akaashi an eskimo kiss. 

Akaashi threaded his fingers through Bokuto’s hair from where he had just thrown his arms around his neck, breaking his contact from the owl-like man below him for a second in order to lean his head back; a soft, tinkering laugh leaving Akaashi’s lips. 

Bokuto felt drunk from the sight before him. Akaashi being so vulnerable around him, just like that night they had the tickle fight. Akaashi being so open with Bokuto; carefree and unafraid to let his real emotions shine through and be his true self. 

Bokuto knew he was looking at Akaashi in a loving, adoring way, he knew for sure he must have been, because by the time Akaashi had stopped laughing and met his eyes again, his whole expression softened. 

Bokuto began to feel tears slip down his face. 

He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Just seeing Akaashi be so happy and _glowing_ made Bokuto yearn for nothing more for the rest of his life. As long as he could see the sight before him, and keep on caring for and _kissing him,_ making him laugh like that, Bokuto found himself realising there was nothing else he wanted to accomplish in life. 

Akaashi thumbed Bokuto’s tears away, smiling at him sympathetically as he leaned in to brush his lips once more against his. 

This time round, it was Bokuto’s turn to shudder. 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto gasped out ever so quietly.

“Please...please don’t leave me,” he whispered, averting his eyes away from Akaashi’s blue ones, afraid of any regret and hint of uncertainty he will find in them. 

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi breathed, trying to move his hands in a way that was gentle to get Bokuto to look at him fully. 

However, when he was beginning to see Bokuto not complying, Akaashi took it in himself to be a little more forward. 

“Bokuto,” Akaashi said with purpose, “Look at me,” and this time round, he wasn’t letting Bokuto run away, hide from whatever it was that he was afraid of, causing Akaashi to grip a tighter hold on Bokuto’s face, forcing him to look into Akaashi’s eyes. 

Bokuto faltered, not wanting to see the answer he already knew he was going to find. 

Except, when he stared into those usually stormy, but now somehow calm eyes, he found nothing but warmth and mutual love gazing back at him.

_Mutual._

“Bokuto-san, I am never going to leave you, so don’t ever think that again,” Akaashi said, his stare not faltering once. 

Bokuto felt more tears trail down his face, but this time, they turned into full on sobs. 

Akaashi was hushing soothing, gentle sounds, all whilst massaging one hand through Bokuto’s hair, the other rubbing circles into his strong back. 

“Akaashi, Akaashi, ‘Kaashi,” Bokuto found his assistant's name tumbling from his lips. 

“I’m here Bokuto-san, I’m always going to be.” 

“Keiji.” 

“I’m here, Koutarou.” 

Bokuto woke up with a start, jumping out of his sleep.

He realised that his face was wet and sticky, and half glued to his pillow from where he must have pretended it to be Akaashi’s neck he was buried in. 

As soon as Bokuto felt his dream slipping away from him, he tried his best to do everything he could to try and sleep for a little longer. 

Seriously, the state he was in and his mind wanted to play _that_ kind of trick on him?

Bokuto grunted, turning his face into his pillow so that it was smothering him. 

He knew that moping around wasn’t going to solve anything, but he could indulge in some self pity every once in a while. He deserved to give himself that much at least. 

After what must have been after fifteen minutes of Bokuto nearly suffocating himself in his pillow, he decided it was time to actually try and get up. He sighed as his bare feet dropped from his bed, relishing in the softness of the carpet. He wiggled his toes for at least two minutes before _finally_ standing up. 

Bokuto took a glance over at his alarm clock, already knowing that he was late for work judging by the golden rays streaking through his blinds. 

11:14 AM.

Bokuto groaned; _Really, what was I expecting?_

The second Bokuto entered his apartment after leaving his parents, _\- no, mother,_ staring angrily after him, he already knew that there was no point in setting an alarm for work the next morning. 

Plus, it was Thursday; so it wasn’t as if he was going to miss much work anyway. 

_Like that’s going to matter,_ Bokuto told himself, already knowing that him not going into work today and tomorrow wasn’t just because he ‘felt a little under the weather’. 

Bokuto ventured into his spacious living room, deciding to sprawl across the couch and watch some TV. 

Maybe that would make him feel a little more normal...

By the end of the first episode, Bokuto had fallen asleep.

###### 

Akaashi braced himself. 

He was really stupid to think that he wouldn’t have to face Yukie, or more like too ignorant to think that he could just avoid her and call it a day. 

Yet, that was not the case. How could it be when Akaashi greeted her every single morning at the front desk? 

_Well, here goes nothing._

Akaashi finally had it in himself enough to push open Fukurodani’s large glass doors.

Besides, it’s not like he would have been able to fully avoid the redhead completely anyway; not when Akaashi had conjured up a plan to let her down easy _\- Which I should have done in the first place, Akaashi found himself thinking._

He wasn’t a terrible person. 

Well, he liked to think he was at least somewhat of a decent human being. And that is exactly why Akaashi was going to find the right time to have a conversation with Yukie in order to tell her that they should just be friends. 

He hadn’t quite come up with an excuse as to _why_ yet either; he figured that everything he did come up with was too obvious. That or it just made Akaashi out to sound like a fuckboy. 

_Which he also was not._

Far from it. 

And so Akaashi was going to do what any other gentleman would. What any decent human being would do. And he was going to tell Yukie the truth. 

_Well part of it,_ he thought. 

Before he knew it, Akaashi was in front of said woman, staring down at her, smiling politely, like any other normal morning. 

“Hi Akaashi!” Yukie greeted the assistant, “Let me let you through then before those coffees get cold,” she said with a little laugh. 

Akaashi smiled at her as she buzzed him through, thanking her in his head for acting like it was any other morning. 

He would have probably bailed out otherwise. 

_Not yet though,_ Akaashi told himself. He would wait for the perfect moment to tell Yukie, there was no way he was going to do it in the front lobby of Fukurodani. 

Akaashi’s hand was mere centimeters from pressing the elevator buttons open before he heard his name being called out. 

“Akaashi!” 

He turned around, already knowing the freckled cheeked woman was calling after him to wait for her. 

She caught up to him from across the foyer, telling him to not call the elevator just yet. 

“Hey Akaashi, sorry to bother you like this, but Kaori told me that it was now or never. N-not that that matters! Just, ugh, can we go over there for a minute to talk?” She blinked up to him questioningly. 

Akaashi stood still for a few seconds, his feet planted to the marbled floor until he had processed what the receptionist had asked of him. 

They quickly made their way over to the glass windows, out of the way for anyone within ear reach and for anyone else trying to use the elevators. Akaashi stopped as Yukie turned herself around to properly face him. From this angle, the sunlight filtering in through the curtainless panels made Yukie’s hair glow as if it were fire embers. 

She took a deep breath, obviously preparing herself to tell Akaashi whatever it was that she wanted to announce to him. 

Yukie met his eyes, the usual mischievous glint vanished from them as she began her sentence, this time unfaltering. 

“Look, I had a really great time with you last night, I really mean that,” she continued observing the assistants face for any sign of dejection, and when she found none, continued on with what she was saying. 

“But to me, I feel like we would be better off if we were just friends. I really like you Akaashi, but last night just felt as though we were best friends that were having a reunion as though we haven’t seen each other in years.” 

Yukie winced, thinking that her last set of words were a bit too harsh. 

Akaashi stood there, motionless, unable to speak words back to the receptionist. 

_I can’t believe this is happening right now,_ Akaashi thought to himself. _Well at least it made things easier for me._

Akaashi didn’t mean to sound like an asshole. But wasn’t this what he had wanted? He was going to tell Yukie the _exact same_ thing. Well, maybe not the exact same, he still hadn’t come up with a believable excuse, but at least Yukie gave him one. 

Akaashi cleared his throat nervously, thinking that he had been standing without saying anything in response for quite a few minutes. 

“No, no I understand. I was thinking the same thing. I’m glad we can both agree just to be good friends,” he smiled a genuine smile, grateful that Yukie felt the same way and even still wanted to remain friends. 

Akaashi had to admit, Yukie was an amazing woman. He had known that before their date last night even. But when he thought about it, she was right. They had acted like long lost best friends more than anything else. 

He supposes she meant that there was no _chemistry_ between them. 

And Akaashi had felt it too. 

_Whether he had liked to admit it or not._

Yukie gave a vibrant smile, stepping towards the taller man to wrap her arms around him. Akaashi faltered for a few seconds before returning it, wrapping his own arms around her petite waist. 

She was warm, and Akaashi vaguely noted that her hair smells like vanilla and sandalwood. 

They pulled away, Yukie’s smile never leaving her face. 

“I hope this means that you won’t be annoyed about my spam texting, because don’t think you’re getting away from that!” 

Akaashi let out a soft chuckle, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

“Well, I better not keep Kaori maintaining the fort on her own! See ya later Akaashi!” 

And with a little parting wave, Yukie sauntered back to her desk. 

Akaashi watched her go, just contemplating for a few moments before ultimately making his way over to the elevators. 

As he was waiting for the doors to open on his floor, Akaashi couldn’t help but think maybe everything wasn’t so bad, afterall.

_Don’t be stupid Keiji, you know everything can be. It’s just you and your stupid feelings._

_Wasn’t last night enough proof of that?_

Akaashi felt his face burn just as the doors opened, willing _that_ particular event to go away.

###### 

Akaashi had long since been sitting at his desk before Konoha had finally entered the office, swinging his stuff down and graciously taking a swig from the iced coffee Akaashi had placed on the coaster an hour before hand, still freezing cold. 

It wasn’t until Konoha had mentioned it before everyone else had failed to realise, glancing up from their laptops with confused expressions. 

“Hey, hasn’t Bo come out of his office yet?” 

Everyone pointed their gaze onto Akaashi, all at the same time. 

If the situation had been any different, he would have most likely laughed. 

“Now that Konoha-san mentions it, he hasn’t. I didn’t want to disturb him in case he was catching up on emails that he hates responding to.” 

“Yeah, but he would have usually come out to sit on your desk by now Akaashi!” Komi noted. 

At this, Akaashi seemed to be at a loss for words. 

Now that he looked back on it, Bokuto hadn’t text him last night either. No late night text about this new show that they should watch, no text about weird food cravings he was having, and Akaashi’s favourite, no random facts about owls. 

Now Akaashi thought about it, he felt a weird sense of worry ebb at the bottom of his stomach through to his chest. 

He stood up, abandoning his laptop for a few moments as he swiftly walked up to the top model’s office doors. 

Everyone watched him with keen eyes, wondering if they were just overreacting or not. 

But they knew better. 

This had happened to them multiple times in the past. 

It felt like a repeat. 

The only thing that was different was the fact that Akaashi was now here to experience it too. 

He rapped against the glass, hoping for a loud or mopey voice to call back out. 

Except, that didn’t happen. 

“Bokuto-san? Are you okay in there?” 

No answer. 

After two more tries and Washio suggesting Akaashi should just open it to be done with, they were all met with a ‘Bokuto-less office’. 

Akaashi inwardly groaned, the first thing coming to his mind was that maybe Bokuto had taken sick leave, but then reminded himself that Bokuto would have text him if it were a simple cold or flu. 

Not only that, but judging by the look on everyone else’s faces as he walked back over to his desk, Akaashi _knew_ he was about to experience what everyone had tried preparing him for. 

The office was dead silent for about the next fifteen minutes or so. 

No one dared to speak, not when they all knew Bokuto must be at home, fighting against himself yet again. 

And as depressing as it was, they all just had to carry on working, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. 

Amidst that silence however, Akaashi had taken it upon himself to try reaching out to Bokuto-san. 

He sent off a series of texts consisting of; ‘Are you okay?’ ‘Is everything alright?’ and finally ‘Did you need me to do anything for you?’

Akaashi prayed that Bokuto would see the double meaning behind his last text. 

But instead of a usually quick reply, his phone didn’t go off once.

###### 

It had been three hours since Akaashi had sent the texts off to Bokuto. 

Really, did he expect a text back? Bokuto probably had his phone turned off. 

After debating with himself for five minutes, Akaashi finally did what he thought was best. He texted Kuroo, knowing that he was the closest one to Bokuto and knew how to deal with these slumps of his best. He also knew for a fact that Kuroo would tell Kenma, Akaashi not needing to tell him too. 

Akaashi thought that he could at least do his part by letting someone that Bokuto was closest to know. 

Especially since Akaashi didn’t want to overstep his boundaries as he figured he didn’t quite know Bokuto well enough yet. 

Although, everyone had seemed to think otherwise…

Kuroo had texted him back, along with Bokuto’s address and a ‘I reckon you’d be the best one to help him out this time round. We all trust ya Akaashi :) Tell him i’ll come round soon as i can’ 

Akaashi had stared at his phone screen for a good three minutes before Kuroo’s text had registered in his brain. 

He had Bokuto’s _address._

Akaashi told himself that he would go straight after work. Time be damned. 

If he could go right this moment, he would. But he still had work to do. 

By the time 5:30pm rolled round, Akaashi found that he couldn’t have been anymore happier to leave work and get going. 

Before he got in the taxi to Bokuto’s however, he quickly stopped by a local convenience store to buy his boss dinner. He figured that if the owl-like man was most likely in one of his slumps, then he could at least buy him dinner which he is 100% sure Bokuto wouldn’t have eaten yet. 

He also had his peanut butter cookies in his bag too, obviously unable to give them to Bokuto this morning. At least he’d still be getting his sweet treat. 

Akaashi felt a fond smile take over his face; although the circumstances sucked, he was still happy that he would be able to see Bokuto today after all. 

Upon arriving at Bokuto’s address, Akaashi would have liked to say he was shocked. But after knowing all of his friends for a few months now and having slept round Kenma’s and gone to the restaurants they went to, the assistant found that it was what he had been expecting. 

The top model's apartment was a penthouse establishment, just like Kenma’s. But whereas Kenma had the top floor (the actual penthouse), he figured that Bokuto had a large apartment on a lower floor, considering his apartment number was 5. 

But still all the spacious seeing the money he had and what it looked like on the outside; a modern design mostly made of glass and black beams that reflected the city's nightlife. 

Akaashi took a large breath of cool, night-time air. 

_Why am I so nervous?_

_Come on Keiji, it’s just like any other day._

He breathed out, finally walking up to the apartment. 

Unlike Akaashi’s, you could just walk right in through the front doors, no need to buzz anyone in. 

Oddly for some strange reason, Akaashi found that helpful. 

He got to the fifth floor, which Akaashi noted was still pretty high up as he walked out of the elevator and along the hallway full of glass windows. _The city view looks really nice from up here,_ he thought. 

With a tight hold on the bag he was holding and one more time steeling his nerves, he found himself knocking on a door that hopefully this time, Bokuto was behind. 

_Or least answer to._

After five gut wrenching minutes, there was no one opening the door. Not only that, but Akaashi didn’t even hear any sign of movement. 

He tried again, knowing full well Bokuto must be in there somewhere. 

He _needed_ to know if he was okay. 

That, and well - he had made a promise to himself of when the time came around, afterall. 

Akaashi knocked against the wood more harshly this time, trying to get the owl-like man’s attention from the otherside of the barrier between them. 

Still, _no answer._ No movement. 

Akaashi’s already thinly strung patience was beginning to run out. 

“Bokuto-san! I know you’re in there, please, open up.” 

Suddenly the lock on the door began to turn, Akaashi figuring Bokuto must have been by the door the entire time. 

_Wait, does that mean Bokuto had been sitting against it this whole ti—_

The door came ajar ever so slightly, Akaashi just barely making out the figure that was peeping through the crack, Bokuto’s bright eyes the only thing that was clear in the darkness of the apartment. 

As soon as Bokuto saw it was Akaashi on the other side, his eyes went wide as his eyebrows shot up on his forehead. He went to close the door again, but Akaashi’s foot stopped it just before it could close shut. 

Bokuto really, _really did not want Akaashi to see him like this. Not when it was the one thing that had caused everyone else to run away from him._

He couldn’t go through it again. _No, not with Akaashi. Not with Akaashi._

“—Akaashi.” 

“—Bokuto-san.” 

They stood there, just staring at each other. Almost as if they were basking in each other's presence. 

Akaashi took this time to study Bokuto. His hair was flat, slightly rumpled as though he had continuously been running his hands through it. He was in a worn out white shirt, along with gray joggers. His eyes looked as though they had been rubbed red sore. 

Akaashi knew that he probably, _most likely should not,_ be doing this. He should respect Bokuto’s space. But something was _screaming_ at him, that he needed to be there for him. 

“Akaashi I—” 

“Bokuto-san, I—” 

This time, a small smile braced itself upon Bokuto’s lips, almost melancholically. 

Akaashi found himself wanting to kiss it away. 

_No._

Heart beat racing, Akaashi took initiative and spoke up first. 

“Kuroo gave me your address. I also bought you dinner,” Akaashi smiled, holding the paper bag up for emphasis. 

He could tell that Bokuto wasn’t planning on letting anyone in, hence why he was being so guarded, regardless of how close he was to the person. 

Despite that however, he still found himself opening the door wider for Akaashi. 

Akaashi removed his foot right away, surprised at his own rudeness. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have done that, Bokuto-san. If you want me to just leave your dinner here and go home, I will. It’s no problem.” 

He held out the bag between them, Bokuto still having not spoken one full sentence. 

Akaashi didn’t like it. It creeped him out, not hearing the usually over-excited, cheerful man before his eyes go mute. 

Akaashi began to see early signs of tears glistening within Bokuto’s golden eyes. 

He opened the door fully, head turned to the side, Akaashi standing stock still for a moment before blinking and walking in. 

The apartment was massive, and surprisingly kept neat. Although when Akaashi peeped over to the kitchen, he saw there were days worth of dishes not washed. 

_How didn’t I see the signs earlier on?_ Akaashi berated himself. 

Bokuto walked over to the sofa, slunked down and placed his hands against his head, elbows leaning on his knees. 

Akaashi didn’t know what to do. 

This was _so much more_ different from what he had ever had to go through himself. 

He took his shoes off, placing the food and his satchel on the countertop before trudging his way over to the top model, scared as though he would frighten him. Akaashi took his place next to Bokuto on the sofa, but figured he should give him space, so he sat on the far end, body facing forwards to make Bokuto as comfortable as possible. 

He figured he would feel his eyes on him otherwise, and that would more likely make him curl in on himself even more. 

Akaashi decided that he would wait until Bokuto spoke up first this time round. 

Although that plan had soon failed as he heard little sniffles, then sniffles that turned into sobs… 

Akaashi wanted _so_ badly to just get Bokuto to look at him, and take all the pain he holds inside and suffer it himself. 

Except, Akaashi couldn't do that. 

What was he supposed to do? Why did kuroo think he’d be good for this? Was he crazy? Most likely. 

Akaashi looked at him, and slightly edged up the couch, halting the second he saw Bokuto flinch, must having felt him move closer towards him. 

“A-Akaashi, p-please, I don’t need you seeing me like this a-as well,” Bokuto choked out. 

Akaashi felt his heart stutter in sadness. In _desperateness._

He didn’t want to break the boundary between them. Because if he did, he’s not sure Bokuto would ever respect him again… 

But Akaashi also couldn't just sit here and watch the man he adored crumble before his very eyes. 

“Bokuto-san, is there anything you want me to do? If you want, I can—” 

“No, I’m s-sorry Akaashi but, you shouldn’t be h-here. I don’t want you seeing me like this, you can’t.” 

Bokuto had his face buried in his knees now, his whole back facing away from Akaashi. Whatever it was, Bokuto was hell bent on not telling Akaashi what was wrong. Not only that, but also wasn’t telling him _why._

Akaashi knew that there were still bits and pieces he needed to fit together, only having gone off of what the others had told him about. But he wanted to know sooner than later in order to help Bokuto. But if it was the model’s wish not to, Akaashi would also respect that, and be there for him if Bokuto ever did tell him. 

He knew that whatever this was, it was more than just a ‘slump’. 

Bokuto’s sobs had eventually turned into silent tears, and Akaashi felt his arm reach out to rub soothing circles on his back before he realised _\- no._

_It might make things worse._

_I feel so helpless._

Akaashi stood up, took one longing, lingering glance at Bokuto before making his way to the too big kitchen. He figured that he could at least do something that would be somewhat comforting to Bokuto, knowing he hadn’t eaten. 

He started preparing the meal, Bokuto’s favourite dish of bbq meat, and also cooked up some rice he found in the cupboard with it too. 

Akaashi wasn’t a necessarily good cook, nor was he bad either. He just hoped that something delicious would soothe Bokuto more so, and hoped it would suffice. 

He opened up his satchel and grabbed the peanut butter cookies that he was meant to give to the owl-like man earlier. 

Akaashi looked over to where he had left Bokuto as he began to plate up the dish. He was still sitting in the same place he had long since sat down in, but wasn’t as shut off from Akaashi anymore. Instead he had bought his knees up, hugging them to his chest and he placed his chin upon them. 

Akaashi frowned. 

He would leave the dish on the coffee table along with the cookies, and go. Bokuto had his phone number, and he wanted to be there for him every way he could. But he knew it had to happen on Bokuto’s own terms. 

The plate clinked slightly against the glass.  
Akaashi winced, hoping to be as silent as possible. Once he had placed down the cookies next to them, Akaashi stood back up to his full height. 

Bokuto’s line of sight didn't once falter, almost unnerving in a way of how Akaashi was sure he hadn’t blinked once. 

He was just staring into space. 

Akaashi wrung his hands together, standing on the spot for a moment, debating what to do. 

_I thought I was just going to leave him be,_ Akaashi's mind wrestled with him. 

Almost as if his prayers had been answered, Bokuto finally blinked, his eerie trance like state broken. 

He squinted at the table where Akaashi had left a steaming plate of his favourite food, along with his peanut butter cookies. 

Akaashi watched him intently as Bokuto slowly, ever so slowly, bought his knees down from his chest. He un-curled himself as he leaned forwards, the top model lifting up the cookie bag to read the label, before sitting it back down. 

_Oh no…_

Undiluted tears began to fill Bokuto's eyes back up again... 

_Did I do something wrong? I should have just left whilst I—_

"Akaashi," Bokuto began, but this time, more certain, more sure. 

"Thank you." 

Akaashi felt his heartstrings constrict for what seemed to be for the thousandth time of the night. 

_“Anytime,_ Bokuto-san.” 

Bokuto didn’t make a move to eat anything. Akaashi couldn’t blame him; not when he supposed he couldn’t have much of an appetite with the mental state he was in. But still, Bokuto had to take care of himself, and going by the grumble that resounded through the room, that was exactly what Akaashi was here for. 

To look after him. 

Seeing as the top model had calmed down even more, but still being careful nonetheless, Akaashi decided he could stay for a bit longer - at least until Bokuto ate something. 

He took his place at the end of the couch again, still enough room between them to make Bokuto feel comfortable in his own little personal bubble. 

“Bokuto-san, please eat. Even if it’s just a few mouthfuls,” Akaashi pleaded with him. 

For the first time of the night, Bokuto finally, _properly,_ looked at him. 

Akaashi felt his breath catch in his throat; Bokuto looked _awful._

How had he not seen it earlier? 

Bokuto turned to where the plate was sat. He stared at it for a few minutes, really not in the mood to eat anything, but also knowing he had to by the way his stomach was growling for it. He eventually picked up the spoon and played around with it for a bit, taking one more glance at Akaashi’s pleading face before spooning a bit of rice and eating it. 

He took a few more slow mouthfuls, each time glancing over at Akaashi, almost as if he was waiting for the raven haired man to tell him when he could stop. When Bokuto began to start playing around with the food again, Akaashi said that he could stop if he really ate as much as he could. 

_Well, here goes nothing,_ Akaashi thought. 

“—Akaashi, I’m sorry.” 

Except, Bokuto had seemed to beat him to it, yet again. 

“What are you sorry for? There’s nothing for you to apologise about.” 

Akaashi edged closer to him. 

Bokuto looked at him. That longing, _something simmering underneath the surface,_ look. 

That Akaashi was always so _frightened_ to place. 

“I-I’m sorry Kuroo sent you here. You really shouldn’t be here Akaashi, I—” 

“Bokuto-san, _please_ stop saying I shouldn’t be here. I chose to come here on my own accord, and would have done it regardless if Kuroo-san had texted me.” 

Bokuto paused; that was the first time he had ever heard a note of frustration in his assistant's voice since he had met him. 

If Bokuto was completely honest with himself, he didn’t think he was ever going to hear Akaashi with anger in his voice. Annoyance, yes. But anger? No. 

Something about it made a feeling of satisfaction swirl within his chest. 

“Besides, why do you keep repeating yourself?” Akaashi enquired, eyebrows drawn together. 

Bokuto looked Akaashi in the eyes; “Because it’s true. You shouldn't have come here.” 

The ocean-eyed man felt his words catch in his throat, a hard glint in Bokuto’s eyes he had never seen before. 

Directed at _him._

“I understand, I guess I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Akaashi tried not to let his uneven voice get the best of him. _Not now._

Akaashi got up and made his way over to the counter where his satchel was; he grabbed it then made his way to put his shoes on. 

The whole entire time Bokuto had remained in his place, glued to the sofa with tears slipping down his face, staring into open space. 

If Akaashi looked at him anymore, he was sure he would never leave. 

He placed his hand on the door handle, the cool metal harsh against his warm palms. He twisted it, hiking up his satchel on his shoulder and took one foot outside of the studio apartment. 

Except, something was preventing him from taking another step forward. 

_I must be imagining it,_ Akaashi reasoned. 

He took the final step outside of the apartment, just about to turn around and shut the door, all whilst trying his best to not look at the owl-like man. 

But sure enough, the man he was trying to _not_ look at, was looking _right_ at him as he turned around... 

And he had his hand clamped on Akaashi’s sleeve. 

“B-Bokuto-san, your wish is to be alone, and you have my phone number if you need anything, so what are you doing?” 

Akashi yelped, Bokuto having pulled him back within the apartment, letting the door slam shut behind them. 

Akaashi’s bag slipped off of his shoulder, falling onto the carpet. 

And it seemed as though Bokuto went down with it. 

In a blink of an eye, Bokuto was slumped on the floor, in front of the door, back turned away. 

Wrecked cries left Bokuto, his whole entire frame shaking. 

Akaashi really, _really_ needed to find out the root of this problem. 

Otherwise how could he help him? How could he just go off of what everyone else had warned him about, and nothing else? How could he be truly there for him? 

Akaashi kneeled on the floor, sitting close to Bokuto for the first time tonight. 

_But still not close enough._

Akaashi reached out, going to place a hand upon Bokuto’s shoulder before letting it drop, deciding against it. 

_Think Keiji, think. He obviously doesn’t know what to do…_

_What would I want someone to do if it were me…?_

Akaashi knew that his idea was ridiculous, but what else could he do? 

_Am I really going to do this?_ Akaashi's mind rampaged. _But I have no other choice..._

He was _so_ very scared about what his next actions might prove to himself but... 

Bokuto was falling apart in front of his very eyes, and Akaashi never wanted to see to the sight again. 

.... 

“A-Akaashi…?” 

“Bokuto-san.” 

Akaashi had thrown himself forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Bokuto’s waist. 

_Grounded._

That was the best thing Akaashi could think of doing. 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto breathed out, hands stopped rubbing around his already sore eyes, grabbing tightly onto Akaashi’s own hands around his middle, almost as though he was keeping them in place there. 

“I’m here Bokuto-san,” Akaashi murmured. 

“Please,” Bokuto whispered, turning his head slightly to where Akaashi’s chin was resting on his shoulder, “Don’t leave.” 

“—And I am never going to leave you.” 

They stayed like that for a while, content in each other's warmth, breaths ghosting across noses and flushed cheeks. 

A few moments later, Bokuto had finally turned around, sitting cross legged from Akaashi as the latter leaned his back against the door. It was silent for a few minutes; but neither of them minded. Akaashi could tell that Bokuto was working up the courage to tell him _why_ and _where_ his ‘slumps’ came from, especially now that Akaashi had experienced it himself. 

Eventually, Bokuto spoke up, albeit quiet. 

“I get into these slumps...And I know,” he met Akaashi’s eyes then, “I know the others warned you. I overheard them the second week you started.” 

Akaashi began to speak up, but Bokuto cut him off. 

“I’m not mad either, before you start to apologise. It’s sort of become...normal. For them to warn the new assistants when they start, that is. It-it’s happened so many times in the past that it had to be.” 

Bokuto averted his gaze, and Akaashi really wished he hadn’t. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” Akaashi asked, softness laced in his voice. 

Bokuto flinched, but he knew he was going to have to tell Akaashi at some point. He already dealt with his normal moods more than any of his previous assistants had done in the first place. 

“They all left me,” Bokuto whispered, “every single one of them.” 

Akaashi didn’t say anything, waiting for Bokuto to explain further, knowing he hadn’t quite finished yet. 

“All of the personal assistants I've hired before you, they all ended up running away and leaving me. No notice, no warning, nothing, most of them told me to my face, others just left a note on your desk.” 

“Bokuto-san you didn’t, still don’t, deserve any of that. I’m so sorry that happened to you.” 

Bokuto let out a bittersweet chuckle, “It’s okay, they’re all gone now.” 

Akaashi clenched his hands from where they were resting on his perched knees, eyebrows knitting together. 

_I am never going to let anyone treat Bokuto-san like that again._

He felt a sudden surge of anger wash over him; more anger seething through to his core than he had ever felt before. 

_How? How could these people just go about their everyday lives, knowing that they had hurt, left someone as amazing as Bokuto-san?_

“I see why they left me though, and I don’t blame them. I’m lucky enough as it is that Kuroo and the others put up with me as much as they do,” Bokuto let out a chuckle. 

“I mean, I am _bipolar_ Akaashi, my slumps and the way I act is what causes them to all run away in the end.” 

_There._ He said it. 

It was finally all out in the open 

Akaashi sat in front of him, kneeling as he hoped Bokuto would look at him. 

_“Don’t._ Do not ever say that about yourself again. How could you?” 

Bokuto turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut before he let tears run down his track marked cheeks for a pathetic time of the night. 

Akaashi wouldn't let him. 

Not this time. 

“Bokuto-san.” 

Still not looking at him, Akaashi grabbed Bokuto’s cheeks, cupping them in his hands. 

_“Bokuto.”_

Bright, golden eyes found their way into stormy ones. 

Bokuto felt as though they held the secrets of the universe within those oceans, never wanting to look away even though he didn’t want Akaashi to see how weak, _pathetic,_ he was. 

“I wish, I wish you could see yourself how others see you,” Akaashi told him. 

“W-what do you mean?” 

“Not those _absolutely pathetic_ assistants that left you in the past, not anyone else that has ever told you otherwise,” Akaashi carried on, not once faltering. 

“But how Kuroo see’s you. How Kenma see’s you. How every single person at Fukurodani see’s you.” 

Akaashi paused for a moment, gazing into bright, glistening eyes. 

“How _I see you.”_

Bokuto’s face crumbled, oceans and rivers flooding through him as he registered every word Akaashi had just said to him. 

“And don’t think for a second that history is going to repeat itself. I’m not going to leave. I’m here, and I plan on staying. I made that promise to people who care about you three months ago, and I _never_ intend on breaking it.” 

“Not when I care about you _so much_ that it _hurts_ sometimes.” 

Akaashi didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care if he was being too obvious. He needed Bokuto to know how amazing he was. How bright, brilliant and extraordinary he was in every way possible. 

He didn’t care about his mood swings, or the repercussions of his condition. 

All he cared about was _Bokuto koutarou._

Foibles and all. 

As the sun had long since set, and dusk turned into midnight blues as the stars set in the sky, Bokuto and Akaashi held each other close until the birds began to chirp at dawn. 

###### 

That Friday, Akaashi had bought and made Bokuto dinner again. 

Saturday rolled by, and Akaashi had spent all day by Bokuto’s side, sitting on the couch as they watched documentaries about owls, this time not as much space between them. 

Sunday came by, and Kuroo and Kenma had visited Bokuto, knowing full well Akaashi had taken care of it up until then. Besides, Sunday was the day Akaashi had to attend his literature classes, and thought to himself that the timing had panned out really well. 

For the first time in nearly five days, Akaashi was shocked to see Bokuto leaning against the bike shed as he made his way out of the further education building, smiling brightly as he held up two bubble teas that late Sunday afternoon, Kuroo and Kenma having left a bit ago. 

Akaashi grinned back, happy to see Bokuto was in the mood enough for him to leave his apartment. He still didn't make as many jokes or laugh that loud, sweetly obnoxious laugh of his, but slowly and surely, as the weekend passed by, Akaashi noticed Bokuto was turning back to himself again. 

They took a slow stroll back to Akaashi's, careful to avoid the public eye as they sipped on their boba. 

As the new week started, and Bokuto needed just a few more days to get back on his feet to attend work again, everyone was pleased and overjoyed to see him as he came out of his office that Wednesday morning, sitting on Akaashi’s desk with his legs swinging. 

Everyone was watching him talk animatedly, back to his true self. 

Now that Akaashi had finally fitted the last piece of the puzzle, he felt nothing but relieved that Bokuto had let him through. See that vulnerable, heart wrecking side of him. He was grateful because in the end, that only meant that he could be there all the more for him in the future. 

_Yeah,_ Akaashi thought to himself, soft smile on his face as he glanced up to where Bokuto was perched on his desk; 

_I am definitely never going to leave him._

_Ever._

That night as they went back to Akaashi's to watch shows and eat dinner, there was no space left between them on the couch. 

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Duru who beta reads my chapters, I can't wait to write the scene she came up with in the next chapter haha ;)
> 
> kudos are appreciated! Also reading comments make my day so tell me what you thought! I hope you liked this chapter haha...I was unsure of it at first (pacing got the best of me ahhh) but I felt like this was important for them to take the next step hmm...
> 
> As my best friend put it; They keep taking one step forward and two steps backwards bahah,, but that's my intention, we'll see huh ;) 
> 
> Bokuto holding on tighter to Akaashi's hands AHHH MY HEART 
> 
> ~ Much love, Bon 💜 Until next time!!!


	9. 'For Granted'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw// Homophobia 
> 
> Please be mindful of the tags on this fic, and the fact it is rated mature for a reason. there is going to be nothing graphic as such, but more so just some mildly harmful words. 
> 
> I feel like now is a good time to bring this up!! (i promise you it's not as bad as you think, but I wanted to say it just in case and as a reminder anyway)!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is by far one of my favourite chapter so far!! the whole entire chapter is actually very different from my original notes!! I just liked the flow of things better and the way it will lead to things in the future chapter!! My friend Duru actually came up with most of the scenes that was hard for me to write, but i'll say in the end notes so it won't spoil!! 
> 
> Enjoy ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

_Hope you don't regret it  
I pushed a lot back but I can't forget it  
We never got the credit  
Nobody seemed to hear us but we said it  
Neither of us planned it  
And for a long time I took it all for granted  
I really thought we had it  
But at the time it was more than I could manage, so_

_Used to stick together_  
You're my best friend, I'll love you forever  
We could be the greatest, it doesn't matter if we're never rich or famous 

_If you can just let me know if it's okay  
To call you when I'm lonely_

_-You Get Me So High, The Neighbourhood_

###### 

Bokuto was currently sitting in his and Kuroo’s favourite restaurant in downtown Tokyo. Akaashi was sitting next to him, enthusiastically chatting to Kenma opposite him about new games launching and Kenma talking about new video ideas he had for his channel. 

It was a bright, cloudless Saturday morning, perfect for early May, and Kuroo had thought that it would be a great idea for them to all go out and get some brunch together, claiming that it would be ‘good for Bo!’ Especially now that it had been just over a week since he had another slump episode. 

And Bokuto couldn't be any more grateful for his life than he was right now. 

They were sitting at a table in the far back corner of the restaurant, mostly hidden from anyone that would recognise them. 

Bokuto loved this little food place. It was cosy but spacious at the same time, and the garden outside where they were currently sat had white brick walls enclosing them in with luscious green vines crawling and hanging from all of it that bloomed night sky petunias that opened up at night. 

Night sky petunias were Bokuto’s favourite flower. They were equally rare as they were beautiful; he also adored the fact that they only opened up at night, a beautiful blend of midnight blues and violets with white polka dots that looked like stars had been placed upon the petals. 

Speaking of rare beauty, Bokuto turned his head to look at the wavy haired man next to him. He studied him, thinking that he hadn’t had much time to fully appreciate his assistants' beauty as of late. 

He knew it was a risky thing to do, and he knew that he certainly should not be so obviously staring at him right now, with what tension the two had experienced lately. But Bokuto just chalked it up to the fact that it was because of the closeness both of them had experienced; with Akaashi helping him through his slumps and trying his best to help him get back into a normal routine. 

And it had worked. 

With the help of Akaashi and his friends, he had managed to bounce back somewhat quickly than his last ones. 

Of course, Bokuto had still not been fully back to himself, but he was getting there faster than usual, and was still healing from Thursday night’s event’s too…

###### 

_Thursday night - (Two days ago)..._

“Would you like some extra ramen? There’s loads left over from earlier,” Akaashi said over his shoulder from where he was standing in his kitchen. 

Bokuto was currently positioned on the couch, watching the latest TV show that this time round, Akaashi had recommended. Bokuto had gone to get up to wash the dishes, but Akaashi had gently shoved him back down, claiming that he would do it since he lived there. 

“Akaasshhiii,” Bokuto groaned as he tilted his head back over the couch to get an upside down view of the man, “Let me do the washing up.” 

Akaashi stared at him unamused, turning around and holding the sponge in a way that was supposed to look threatening to the model. 

Bokuto couldn't help the snicker that left his throat; Akaashi looked both handsome and disheveled. Disheveled because of the way his hair was mussed up - probably from all of the stress he had at work today regarding the Seijoh event for the next morning, and handsome because of the way his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off toned forearms and more muscle that most people would think Akaashi had. 

_He looks adorable,_ Bokuto thought to himself, noticing Akaashi had red cheeks from the steam and soap on his nose. 

Bokuto hopped up from where he sat and met Akaashi from where he was standing in front of the sink. He grabbed the towel from where it hung off of his assistants shoulders; Akaashi looked at him with his eyebrows raised in question. 

“And what was so funny, huh Bokuto-san?” 

Bokuto chuckled, “Back to formalities already, hmm?” he quipped back jokingly. 

Akaashi stuttered and abruptly turned back around to plunge his hands into the sink, a prominent blush on his face that made his already reddened cheeks stand out more; though it had only been exactly a week since Akaashi had ‘grounded’ Bokuto at his place. 

Bokuto relished in the sight of it. 

“At least let me dry the dishes ‘Kaashi!” 

“Fine, but as long as you eat the rest of the ramen, I don't want to waste it,” Akaashi proposed. 

Bokuto brightened up, happy that Akaashi was finally letting him help him out, “Deal!”

As much as Bokuto wanted to removed the soap from Akaashi’s face as an excuse to be closer to him, Bokuto thought it would be even funnier to see how long the blue eyed man noticed, much more preferring to get a rise out of him and see that cute blush on his face again. 

Half an hour later, and another furious blush from Akaashi who had only just realised there was soap on his face, Bokuto’s phone lit up. 

Akaashi paused his conversation; “Bokuto-san, it’s your mother, shouldn’t you answer it? That’s the fourth time she’s called,” Akaashi said carefully. 

Bokuto looked at Akaashi in what could be described as an almost - horrific expression. The mere thought of answering one of his mother's calls right now, especially with him being sat next to Akaashi at his place, was a _really_ bad idea. 

Bokuto tried to play it off as nonchalantly as he could. He hadn’t spoken to his mother - and father of the matter, since one week ago at the restaurant where he had quite frankly, made a scene and stormed out. 

Not only had he acted like even more of an embarrassment in front of his highly expectant mother, but he had a feeling he had also embarrassed himself in front of his father. 

Which was the _last_ thing he had wanted to do. 

_Come on Koutarou, you can do this. You have to call her eventually, it’s not like you can run away forever…_

As much as Bokuto really did not want to pick up the call right now, he figured that it was just best if he answered her and got this done as soon as possible. 

The sooner he _finally_ gave an explanation to his mum of why he walked out that night, the sooner he could get on with his everyday life without the thought of her weighing down on his shoulders. 

Except there was another problem… 

How on earth was he supposed to explain to his mum that the reason he had left that night was because she kept pestering him about getting married to a _woman?_

Not only that, but because all he had was thoughts of Akaashi who also happened to be sitting _right next to him,_ running through his head? 

_Well, here goes nothing,_ Bokuto told himself, taking a deep breath. 

He swiped the icon up and blew a gust of air out through his mouth; “Hello mother, is everything alright?” 

A crackle came from the other end of the call before Bokuto heard her response, wincing as he did; “Seriously Koutarou? Don’t act as if you haven’t seen the last eight calls you have ignored on your phone for the past week!” 

Akaashi was carefully observing every feature on Bokuto’s face, and the second he noticed discomfort, he didn’t know whether he should hold his hand or get up and give him space. 

Akaashi pretended he didn’t just think of holding the owl-like man’s hand, and instead made himself get up and go over to the kitchen. That way he could quickly get to Bokuto if he needed comfort, and still observe him by giving him space. 

Since his slump, Bokuto had explained a great deal to Akaashi about his childhood and parents and his upbringing, so he had a vague idea of what was going on. 

Bokuto’s eyebrows pinched together, “Yes mother, I am very sorry about that but I—”

Aika cut her son off before he could finish his sentence; “No Koutarou, I don’t want your apology when I know you don’t mean it. If you did mean it, then you wouldn't have so childishly stormed out last week.” His mother reprimanded in a clipped tone. 

The top model cast his eyes downwards, focusing his gaze on the coffee table. After last week, he didn’t want Akaashi to see him in another state so quickly. 

“Speaking of storming out, why did you make a fool and embarrass yourself in front of your father and I anyway?” 

Bokuto’s heart sank. It was only a matter of time until his father got fed up with him too…

He supposed him walking out on them was the last straw, and not returning his father's calls was just out of fear that it would be his mother on the other end instead.

Had he finally betrayed his father's trust after all these years…? 

_No Kou, don’t think like that._

Just as Bokuto was about to provide his mother with an answer, he found himself being cut off yet again. 

“Honestly Koutarou, I just do not see the reason for you leaving so abruptly last week. Do you know how that made me feel? Do you know how that made your _father_ feel?” 

At her last sentence, Bokuto felt his heart shatter. He already had to live most of his life growing up without any sort of motherly love, and his father understanding him whilst he grew up was one of the few things that Bokuto had cherished. 

Bokuto couldn’t stand it any longer. 

He felt years worth of anger, rage, _not being understood,_ the feeling of never being good enough, bubble up inside of him. 

_That_ had been the reason he ‘so childishly’ stormed out last week. 

_That_ had been the reason he had so called made a fool of himself. 

He hadn’t felt understood by his own mother not just because of his slumps, but also because of the fact that he was _gay._

Something that he hadn’t even told his father…

He took one glance to where Akaashi had sat himself at his breakfast bar, and found him staring straight back at him. 

Bokuto gulped. 

He could do this. 

_You can do this Koutarou, now or never._

After all these years...was he finally about to admit it to his _mother?_ Yeah - his friends and everyone at the company knew, hell even people on social media and his fans had vague ideas. Which wasn’t a bad thing by all means. 

If anything, he would rather them just make it official for him so his mother could find out from them then ask him. 

That would have been less direct and nerve wrecking afterall…

Bokuto shook his head, preparing himself for whatever was about to come. 

_Worrying never changes the outcome, Kou._

He could still hear all of the now incoherent, blabbering mess of his mother coming through the static. And she was _still_ going on and demanding answers about why he had left last week. 

Bokuto had the sickening feeling that she was rather asking about why he was the way he is throughout his whole life, as well. 

He could feel Akaashi’s gaze on him from the otherside of the room. 

Taking one last glance at the ocean eyed assistant confirmed all of what he was about to do. 

_“Mother.”_

Bokuto’s tone must have come out a little too aggressively if it meant Aika had suddenly gone dead silent on the end of the line. 

“You want to know the real reason why I left last week?” Bokuto drew an intake of air. 

When his mother didn’t reply, he carried on. 

“I am fed up with you _constantly_ pressuring me, antagonizing me, and not even having the ability to _listen to me.”_

Bokuto tried not to let his voice waver. 

“All of the twenty-five years I have been here, you have not listened to me _once._ In more ways than one.” 

The owl-like man looked up to Akaashi, almost as if he was asking for permission and strength to carry on. 

Akaashi was just staring at him, mouth ever so slightly gaping open, but gave a short nod of his head nevertheless. 

“But father did. He always has. So _please,_ don’t you dare bring him into this. You probably haven’t even let him voice his own opinion.” 

Bokuto let out a bitter chuckle; “Hell, I _knew_ it was you on the other end of the phone when it was him supposedly calling. And you wonder why I was avoiding you.” 

Aika was still as silent as before, shocked at what Koutarou was now expressing after all these years. 

_“How?_ How could you do that to your own _son?”_

Bokuto’s voice cracked on the last word, tears threatening to spill. 

But still, he blinked them back. He had to do this. Not only did he have to do this for himself, but he had to do it for the person that he walked out for that starry night that seemed so far away now. 

Bokuto stared into Akaashi’s stormy eyes, never once unfaltering. 

“The main reason I walked out in the restaurant that night was because I like someone. And they are kind, brave, and selfless and extremely thoughtful.”

He heard his mother gasp for the first time. 

It was a shame he was about to disappoint her even further. 

“ _He’s_ amazing.” 

“Bokuto, what are you trying to say?” His mother’s voice began to shake. 

Bokuto still was looking Akaashi in his eyes, smiling at his last set of words. 

_Akaashi wasn’t looking away either._

“Mother, I’m not into women. I’m attracted to _men.”_

The line went silent on both ends for what seemed like an eternity. 

That was until his mother eventually spoke up. 

“Bokuto Koutarou, how could you be so _ungrateful?”_

Well, he had certainly not been expecting her to say that of all things. 

“What are you thinking? Surely this is just a-a phase. I bought you up my whole life, I provided you with a career. You are famous because of _me._ And you really just expect me to take all of that and have you throw it back in my face?! No. Well I am not having _any_ of it.”

She paused before continuing; “Do you have anything else to say for yourself?”

After another short pause she carried on; "I can't believe this. This is too much for me to handle right now. W-what have you become?!" 

Tears were starting to well up quicker and quicker by the second, Bokuto trying his best to blink them back without spilling them. 

Akaashi lifted himself up, flying over to beside him in a mere matter of seconds. 

“For the record _mother,_ father bought me up. You forced me into this career. And lastly, if it wasn’t for you getting that job in Tokyo and me moving schools, I would have never had the people I still have today. So thank you for _one_ thing, I suppose.” 

Aika tried to hold back her own tears, which Bokuto knew that they were more out of rage and shame. 

“Goodbye, Bokuto.” 

Before he could get one last word in, she hung up.

Bokuto let his phone drop to the floor, slouching back into the couch. 

Instead of heart wrecking sobs that Akaashi had seen the other week, the tears that he saw rolling down Bokuto’s face right now were _silent._

_Silent ones are always the worst…_ Akaashi thought to himself. 

_Please, come on Keiji, do something._

Why had this been easier the other night? 

_Because the whole situation was something Akaashi was afraid of himself._

Akaashi went to wrap his arms around Bokuto, wanting nothing more in the whole entire world to embrace him like he did the other night. 

_So why are you hesitating now?_

_God Keiji, you are so fucking stupid. Put your own worries aside for once._

Akaashi reached out his arms, the position making it more awkward because of the way Bokuto was slumped against the couch. But still, he slowly, _hesitantly,_ wound his arms around the models shoulders, seeing as this felt like the only thing he could do in a situation like this. 

Not necessarily grounding, but comforting. 

Akaashi’s already quickly beating heart began to increase rapidly. 

Nobody moved for a few minutes, the silence deafening. 

Just as Akaashi was about to pull back, thoughts filling his mind of; _Stupid, stupid, stupid, why did you think that would help?_

He felt strong arms yank him back down. 

Akaashi had fallen on top of Bokuto, knees uncomfortably sprawled either side of the man beneath him, the latters face hidden in Akaashi’s neck. 

Bokuto embraced him for the first time, _actually_ holding his whole body in place, unlike the time beforehand. 

Akaashi stilled in pure shock. 

After the realisation had sunk in, he wrapped his arms around Bokuto’s neck, keeping his warmth there. 

Cries began to fill the room. Akaashi’s hand gripped tighter into Bokuto’s hair, the other holding onto his shoulder. 

After a few moments, Bokuto dropped his forehead onto his assistants shoulder, still letting out all of the tears he had tried to so relentlessly hold back, spill out. Akaashi began to rub soothing circles into his broad back, trying to comfort him as much as possible. 

After fifteen minutes of embracing and tear spilling, Bokuto pulled back, looking into his assistants eyes. 

“I told her Akaashi,” he said without any ounce of regret. 

Although it had turned out badly, _terribly,_ it’s not as if he hadn’t expected her to react like that. 

He had been preparing for that moment ever since he came out to Kuroo and Kenma in high-school. 

However, there was one thing he was worried about. 

“Kaashi,” Bokuto whispered, but this time still not breaking his gaze. “I’m worried about what my father will think. He’s the last person I want to be disappointed in me.”

Akaashi felt sorrow reverberate through him.

From what Bokuto had told him during the past week, his father had been there for him all along, helping him out. So whatever happened next regarding him will either cause Bokuto to go straight into another, possibly ,em>worse episode than before, or not at all. 

All Akaashi could do was comfort him as best as he could. 

Except this particular conversation shook him to his core. 

_He didn’t want to think about why…_

“Bokuto-san, I’m sure you will hear from him soon, give it another twenty-four hours, and if not then you can decide what action you want to take next,” Akaashi finished off with a slight smile. 

“Yeah, you’re right ‘Kaashi, that actually makes it sound a lot less scary,” he said a little lightheartedly. 

“What would you like to do now Bokuto-san?”

As the model registered what Akaashi had asked him, it had only just now settled into his brain that his assistant was quite _literally_ sitting on top of him. 

And had been this entire time. 

It seemed like it was Bokuto’s turn to blush furiously that night. 

“U-um we can just carry on with the s-show…” Bokuto spluttered, eyes nervously flicking between Akaashi’s eyes and the paused television. 

_He’s so close..._

Now that he inspected Akaashi, glad his mind was using a distraction, he realised the wavy haired man also had a tint on his cheeks. 

And he wasn’t moving either…

Before he could stop himself, Bokuto’s eyes met Akaashi’s lips. 

Akaashi’s face reddened ever more, his own eyes following the movement warily. 

_Not now Kou, not now._

Akaashi’s heartbeat sped up, almost feeling like he was going to die right here on the spot. 

And _not_ in the good way. 

Bokuto inched closer and closer…

And what shook Akaashi to the core for the second time of the night was that he found himself leaning in too…

Suddenly, a loud ring cut through the room, Akaashi almost hitting the ceiling by jumping so hard. 

He scrambled off, realising it was his phone.

He answered it, clearing his throat as he did so; “H-hello, Akaashi Keiji from Fukurodani, what can I do to help,” he said, recognising the number as a company call. 

After five minutes of Akaashi confirming the transport to meet Seijoh, and the car park they had hired out for a fundraising car wash event tomorrow had been confirmed for 10:30AM, Akaashi ended it. 

“S-sorry Bokuto-san, that was Seijoh’s assistant calling,” he tried not to look the owl-like man in the eyes and started tugging on his fingers to keep himself from spiraling. 

“T-that’s okay Kaashi! It’s getting pretty late anyway, I think I should be going home.” 

Just as Bokuto made his way to the door, Akaashi stepped in front of him, blocking him from leaving against his own will. 

_What on earth has come over you Keiji, are you freaking insane?!_

“Akaashi, is everything alright?” 

As Akaashi looked up into Bokuto’s eyes, he quickly looked to the side again, hands clasped behind his back. 

“I was j-just wondering if you would like to stay the night? I-it’s only because you have had a bad night and it’s almost 10:00PM and you have to get up early for the event tomorrow and it will take you awhile to get back to your own place and by the time you—”

“That would be great, thank you Akaashi! Only if you want me to though,” he added on hesitantly. 

Thankfully Bokuto had cut off Akaashi’s mindless rambling, and the latter himself was grateful for his response, making him revert back into his usual, sarcastic-bluntness. 

He stared at the amber eyed man with his trademark unamused expression; “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you to, Bokuto-san.”

“O-oh right, sorry ahaha,” Bokuto rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“You can have my bed, and I’ll sleep on the floor, come on, I've got spare clothes and a toothbrush.” 

“There’s no way I’m taking your bed Kaashi!” Bokuto screeched as they made their way down the hall to his assistants room. 

“Don’t be stupid, you’re my guest, of course i’m on the floor.”

After fifteen minutes of mindless bickering, brushing their teeth (Bokuto started pulling funny faces at Akaashi through the mirror causing him to flick water at him), and a pair of snugly fit pj’s on Bokuto’s form from Akaashi, they had finally settled down for the night. 

Or so Akaashi had thought. 

Not even twenty minutes after Akaashi crawled onto his makeshift floor bed and Bokuto in his own double, the owl-like man spoke up. 

“Hey Akaashi?” He whispered into the darkness of the night. 

“Are you sure you’re okay down there?” 

Akaashi tried not to sigh, Bokuto was only trying to be kind afterall. 

“It’s okay Bokuto-san, I'm actually quite comfortable.” 

Well that’s a lie, he thought to himself whilst trying not to let the hard wood dig into his back, no matter how many blankets he had tried to layer. 

_This is what you get for having a wooden floor,_ he bitterly reminded himself. 

“I can tell you’re not very comfy down there, you don’t have to pretend,” Bokuto said knowingly.

_What the hell?!_

“...How did you know?”

“If I’m being honest, the tossing and turning gave it away. Oh and the covers rustling,” he added on cheekily. 

“Ah.” 

_Busted._

Chuckles erupted in the room, both laughing at the absurdness and why they were even in this situation in the first place. 

Especially Akaashi. He felt as though he were possessed as he offered Bokuto to stay the night. 

And here he was now… 

Not sure whether he was regretting his life choices or not. 

After the laughter died out, silence took over once more. 

After Akaashi was sure Bokuto must have fallen asleep by now, he decided that he would _ever so carefully_ try to sneak onto the very edge of his bed. 

It was a king sized bed afterall, it could fit two people and still have space. 

Akaashi could do this without his mind going into overdrive and telling him it was a very _very_ wrong thing to do. 

Akaashi had somehow managed to curl in on himself underneath the covers on the opposite side, back turned away from Bokuto. 

_Thankfully._

That was until said man turned around and lay flat on his back, staring wide awake at the ceiling. 

Akaashi’s eyes flew wide open. 

_Damn it._

“You could have just asked ya know?” Bokuto told him as though the mere thought of what Akaashi had just done wasn’t already driving him insane. 

He said it like Akaashi could have just hopped in the bed as though it was the easiest thing in the world. 

When akaashi didn’t respond, the model carried on. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. 

Akaashi uncurled himself, deciding to lay flat on his back like the man next to him, resulting in the two only having each of their arms blocking the space between them. 

“For what?” Akaashi gulped.

“For always helping me when I need it most.”

Bokuto paused for a second; “And even when it’s just the little things.”

“I help you because I _want_ to, Bokuto. Not because I feel like I am being forced to.” 

This time, the silence was almost tranquil. 

“You help me too,” Akaashi said after a while. 

He turned his head to the side the same time Bokuto did, their cheeks resting against the pillow as they stared at each other. 

Every nerve in Akaashi was on _fire._

Why was something as simple as this so _intimate?_

Bokuto was watching him intently, almost as if his owl-like gaze was trying to decipher if Akaashi was joking or not. 

“You are the reason you make me want to get up every morning. And all of the people you have given me just because I met you three months ago. I have _friends_ now...So thank you too, Bokuto-san.”

Akashi whispered the last part, almost as if it was a secret, the pitch black of the room engulfing it as though it was never meant to be said. 

_Akaashi shouldn't have said it._

His mind hadn’t even registered the fact that they had nearly _kissed._

He felt like he was drunk. 

Bokuto didn’t say anything, instead turning his head to look up to the ceiling again. Akaashi did the same, trying not to let the panic flood through him. 

Akaashi felt Bokuto’s pinky finger wrap around his own from where their arms rested in the middle of them. 

Akaashi shut his eyes; he really did not feel like having a panic attack right now. 

_So why did it feel more welcoming than anything else?_

_Just this once,_ Akaashi told himself, _I can accept it…_

Akaashi latched his own onto Bokuto's, and soon after felt the top model completely thread all their fingers together. 

_They were holding hands._

Akaashi prayed to all the gods out there that Bokuto couldn’t hear his heartbeat pulsing in his throat.

For the rest of the night, they laid with their hands clasped together, red tinting the both of their cheeks as they both tried to calm their rapid beating hearts, eyes looking anywhere but where they were joined. 

Although neither one seemed to pull away…

In the morning, Akaashi had carefully untangled himself from Bokuto’s long limbs, and made a dash to his bathroom. 

It was only there and then that he had fully had the time to comprehend all of last night's events. 

All Akaashi could hope for was that Bokuto hadn’t heard his wretched cries and broken gasps for air as his back slid down against the locked door..

###### 

After an hour collecting himself in the bathroom, getting dressed and two breakfasts later, Akaashi and Bokuto wordlessly made their way to the charity event. 

The air wasn't exactly awkward between them, but more _tense._

The charity event had gone well, considering it had to be rescheduled two months ago and was now finally happening. 

Of course, there was an unspoken friction between Oikawa and Akaashi when he had approached him to make ‘casual conversation’ and as soon as Iwaizumi had seen it from the other side of the parking lot, he had come rushing over to help save Akaashi from his ‘best friend’ being rude. 

What had made it worse was that Bokuto had been with him when Oikawa had come over, obviously both being top models for their company, they surprisingly had a lot in common. 

The thing that had set Akaashi’s rage alight was the fact of how Oikawa had given him a _knowing look_ when Bokuto had come bounding over to stand at Akaashi’s side to see what he was up to. 

At least Bokuto had known why Akaashi had been glaring at Oikawa the whole time, at least until Iwa had said ‘that's enough’ and dragged him back over to their stalls. 

And at least it had made the two of them able to have an actual conversation after last night that they still hadn’t spoken about. 

Akaashi had the feeling that they wouldn’t. 

Not only that, but Bokuto had been jittery all day, trying his best to wash as many cars as he could against Seijoh so he could distract his mind from his phone, hoping to see his father's name light up on it. 

Timing seemed to be the worst lately. 

After crowds of paparazzi gathering around their roped off space, and many car washes and soaked shirts later, and the public fawning and admiring the view from afar, Akaashi and Iwaizumi had finally tallied up who had raised the most money. 

As the sun began to set and a megaphone blared through the car park, it turned out that Aoba Johsai had become victorious. 

Seijoh was in the lead, having raised 580,413 yen, and Fukurodani not far off; having managed to raise 524,589 yen. 

But all in all, it hadn’t mattered in the slightest, their hard work all going to an agreed charity of their choosing. 

Bokuto had announced to the public that their money would be going to an animal shelter that was on the verge of shutting down, who takes in animals that vets aren’t allowed to take care of under their lease, instead they will be nursed fully back to health without being put down. 

Seijoh on the other hand were giving their money to the cancer research for kids funding, their local hospital not getting enough donations to have a fully advanced medical team to help discover a cure and work with scientists across the globe. 

They all had fun in the end, and after getting dried up and making their way home for the weekend ahead, they all left with a smile of some sort of their face. 

After Bokuto had made his way home from a movie night at Akaashi’s with the tension strung high, he realised he hadn’t had the time to check his phone all day, fully immersed in raising as much money as he could. 

So when Bokuto had flopped back onto his bed and sighed, he pulled out his phone, squinting in the dark from the bright light now emitting through his midnight black room, his eyes went wide at the notification that was left there. 

_One voicemail._

With shaking hands, Bokuto clicked on it and put his phone on speaker. 

His father's static tone filled the bedroom, Bokuto listening intently. 

_“Hello son, i’m so sorry for the late message, but well, Yousuke chuckled, as you know, life has been rather hectic lately. I spoke to your mother, and I know that isn’t something you want to hear but I am trying my best to sway her in the right direction. As for me, I just want you to know that nothing has changed about what I think about you, Koutarou.”_

Bokuto’s eyes began to sting. 

_“I still think of you as my brilliant, extraordinary son, and you are still ever so brave. Braver than any of us could ever be. I guess now is a good time to also hear my apology; I am sorry I never expressed verbally how much you mean to me, but I hope my actions throughout the years have proven otherwise. But I am very proud to call you my son, Koutarou. And I hope you can say the same about me being your father. Keep doing what you are doing Kou. If you need anything, just know that I am always here.”_

The message was silent for a few moments, allowing Bokuto’s tears to slip down his face. 

_“And I hope to meet this certain boy that you apparently like so much one day.”_

At the last sentence, Bokuto let out a little laugh whilst sniffling, palms wiping the wetness off his cheeks. 

_“I’ll see you soon, son.”_

And with the last words uttered into the room, the voicemail ended, Bokuto deciding not to delete it. 

As Bokuto fell asleep that night, he whispered his last set of words of the day before he let a deep slumber slip over him;

_“Thanks, dad.”_

###### 

_Present…_

“B-bokuto-san, why are you staring at me like that?” Akaashi mumbled low enough so Kuroo and Kenma couldn't hear. 

Bokuto broke out of his reverie, blush illuminating his cheeks. 

_He had been doing that a lot lately..._

“Is everything okay?” Kuroo asked the two with a knowing smirk. 

“Y-yes!” The model and assistant spluttered uselessly. 

Kuroo chuckled, Kenma looking at Akaashi with that mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“So,” Kenma decided to change the subject, “How did your date with Yukie go last week Akaashi? We haven’t heard much about how it went.”

At this, even Bokuto whipped his head around. With everything going on, he hadn’t even thought about asking Akaashi about the date. 

He didn’t _want_ to know, especially if it had gone well.

He knew that he was being cruel, he should be happy for him. 

“It surprisingly went really well,” Akaashi said without being flustered. 

_Damn it._

Kuroo and Kenma turned to each other, Akaashi and Bokuto watching the silent conversation between them. 

“Are you going on another date Kaashi?!” Bokuto tried to sound enthusiastic. 

“No actually, we agreed to just be friends.” 

Kuroo looked at Akaashi in a way that he certainly didn’t appreciate, with that snarky, cheshire grin; “Hmm and why is that I wonder?” 

Kenma nodded, agreeing; “You said it went well Akaashi,” he added on. 

Akaashi narrowed his eyes at the both of them, Bokuto clearly not seeing that he was being taunted because Akaashi could feel his unrelenting gaze on himself. 

“Yes, but we just agreed it would be for the best.”

Kuroo raised his eyebrows, “Oh really~?” 

Kenma elbowed him in his side, seeing it was visibly annoying Akaashi now; “Kuro, that’s enough.” 

“Thank you Kenma, but it’s okay,” Akaashi said with a grateful smile, “Kuroo-san is right afterall. I guess there was just nothing between us.” 

“Ah,” Kuroo responded, “No chemistry.” 

Akaashi nodded, Bokuto remaining silent the whole time. 

For the rest of the afternoon, the four of them sat laughing and joking about, talking about anything and everything. 

After a while, they all finally decided to make their way home, Akaashi needing an early night to get up for his english classes tomorrow morning.

###### 

As soon as Kuroo got through the door of the penthouse, he took his shoes off and made his way over to the kitchen. 

“Hey pudding, do you want anything?” He shouted as he grabbed himself a coke from the fridge. 

“No I’m okay, thanks,” the youtuber responded as he turnt the flat screen tv on. 

The rooster haired model quickly made his way over to join him, sitting next to him on the couch even though there were _plenty_ of other options surrounding them. 

As they sat there wordlessly watching the TV, thighs touching each other, Kuroo sipped on his drink as he thought about everything that had happened the past two weeks. 

He was extremely grateful for Akaashi, and the way he hadn’t abandoned Bokuto like every other assistant he had ever recruited, as was Kenma. To know how deeply Akaashi cared for their best friend relieved them. 

Kuroo just hoped that nothing would change. 

Even when he found himself observing Kenma as he spoke to Akaashi, he was thankful. Kenma was learning how to be more and more comfortable around people, and Kuroo was glad that he could watch his best friend be more open and confident. 

It warmed his heart and gave him butterflies just by watching the younger man. 

His _best-friend._

Somehow, them words themselves still hadn’t sat right with Kuroo after all these years. 

He wished he could change it between him and Kenma. But how could he? He wouldn’t let himself. Not after what happened…

_So why do you keep hurting yourself?_

How could he when he didn’t even know how Kenma felt? It wasn’t just as simple as asking, but even Kuroo himself knew that every time Kenma approached him he ran away. 

He just couldn't let himself be with the person he admired, cared for, and loved most in the world when all he would be expecting was for it to all come burning and crashing down. 

Sometimes Kuroo had fleeting thoughts that he and Kenma should have never broken up the day after Kenma’s graduation…

But then the thoughts quickly get replaced by _why_ Kuroo had broken up with him. 

He had lost _so much_ in such a short amount of time, and had let himself spiralled downwards in a way that he thought was never possible. 

He wasn’t _good enough._

Not when all he ended up doing was putting all his loved ones around him in misery and despair...

###### 

_Six years ago (Two weeks before Kenma’s graduation)..._

Kuroo and Kenma had been fooling about in Kenma’s bedroom when his father knocked three hours early to when Kuroo was supposed to be home for dinner. 

As soon as Homura had called them down, the second Kuroo saw his father's face made his heart drop. 

He knew _instantly_ that something was up, and had rushed out the door without even putting his shoes on. 

Kenma had just stared after them, and just by the distraught look on Hansuke’s face and the way Kuroo’s eyes were welling up, he decided it would be best if he just waited for him. 

As soon as Kuroo and his father entered their own house, Kuroo _knew._

It was to be expected. They all knew it would happen eventually when they got told by the doctor a few months ago. 

Kuroo slowly approached the bedroom where his grandad must be, waiting for him. 

Kuroo tried to hold back his tears, he had to be _strong for her._

The door creaked open, and Kuroo popped his head behind the door. 

The sight before him made his heart shatter. 

His Nan was laying in her bed, IV drip attached to her arm from beside it. Her eyes were shut, however as she heard the floorboards creek she opened her eyes in order to see her grandson. 

The doctor had left the room in order to give them their own space. 

Kuroo knew he was saying goodbye. 

He walked over, his grandfather getting up so Kuroo could take his place in the armchair, and reached out to hold onto his grandmother’s hand. 

“I’m here,” Kuroo whispered shakily, and a weak smile stretched upon his nan’s face. 

She turned her head to him, cheek resting upon the pillow.

As Kuroo saw her other hand reach out to cup his cheek, he ducked down and nudged it into her palm. 

He tried not to let his tears fall…

“Kuroo,” his nan murmured. 

“Yes grandmother?” Kuroo tried to not let his voice shake, and gripped onto his nans hand tighter. 

“You keep on making me proud, okay?” 

Teardrops rolled down Kuroo’s cheeks, his nan shushing him and wiping them away. 

“I’ll be okay, everything will be okay, Tetsurou,” he heard her whisper as the hand holding his face slowly retreated. 

“O-okay, I love you, nan,” Kuroo spoke the last words he would ever say to her. 

“I love you too, Tetsu.”

As Kuroo watched her eyes slip shut, he let his sobs fill the room, forehead pressed against hers with his eyes screwed shut. 

Without looking around the room, Kuroo knew that his grandfather and dad were also crying, as silent as it may be. 

His nan was his favourite person, the one person he looked up to most in the world. When his mum had left them at the age of six, his nan had looked after Kuroo almost everyday so his father could pay the pills. His grandad was there too, of course, but he got along better in general with his nan and some days his grandad would garden or do maintenance on other peoples’ houses to help earn more money. 

The next morning, Kenma and his parents had come over with dinner, Homura saying they needed a fulfilling home cooked meal. Hansuke was very grateful and took it in, Kenma saying over that night to comfort Kuroo. 

Kuroo shut himself off for a week, before later realising that he had to keep making his nan proud and carry on so he could finish college. 

He was already halfway through his first year, and soon would be on trial to see if he could make the cut for a professional volleyball team. 

And seeing as it was now one week before Kenma’s graduation, and how much he loved his boyfriend, he also decided he would do it for him, too. They had a nice night to look forward to after all.

Kenma had said that they could cancel and do something else instead, even if Kuroo decided he just wanted to stay on his college campus for the weekend. 

But Kuroo had refused. Kenma had been there for him in more ways than one, and had leant him his shoulder to cry on at the funeral, Bokuto even came to hug him and ask if he ever needed anything, they knew where to find him. 

He was still grieving. Of course Kuroo knew that, these things took time. 

But he was healing and he would get there eventually with the help of his friends and family. 

If only he knew what the night of Kenma’s graduation would lead to.

_And how it would change his life forever…_

###### 

_Present…_

Kuroo had left Kenma’s about fifteen minutes ago, claiming he needed fresh air. He was taking a walk in downtown Tokyo, admiring all the street lights and city views. 

He knew that vogue was due to be launching soon, which seemed to give him something to look forward to, seeing it being plastered on the neon billboards. 

After twenty more minutes of reminiscing and self pity, Kuroo eventually came to a halt, staring at himself in the reflection of a window. 

He observed himself; he looked as normal as ever. Sure, there were a few bags under his eyes from restless sleep, but his make up artists could just cover that up with a little concealer. 

_I hope everything will work out soon,_ he found himself thinking as he stared into his own eyes. 

What exactly, he wasn’t so sure. He just knew that if he wanted to be happier, _wanted Kenma to be happier,_ something had to change. 

He looked up to the neon flashing sign on the window he was gazing into; the bright, flashing letters of _‘Bar’_ taunting him. 

As Kuroo stood there contemplating for a few minutes, he finally went to make his way in, the little bell ringing in his ears behind him. 

_You’re such a fucking idiot, Testurou,_ was the last sober thought he had of the night.

_Kuroo knew he had taken everything for granted._

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOOOOO ?!?! ONE OF MY FAV CHAPTERS YAYAY!! 
> 
> Okay so, my friend Rue acc came up with the bokuaka comfort scene after he told his mum on the phonecall, and also helped me come up with the dialogue. She also thought of the extremley cute idea of Bokuto making fun of Akaashi about using "san" so quickly!! 
> 
> Anyways, hope you liked this chapter!! Tell me what you thought! 
> 
> Much love, Bon 💜


	10. Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is a somewhat lighthearted chapter amongst all the angst lately <3 
> 
> Note: *Somewhat*

_Everything I say only seems to complicate it  
Every little fight is just another night wasted  
Are we gonna lose? Is it gonna last?  
Worry about the future, worry about the past  
Think we're gonna break before I get a chance to say this_

_Don't wanna live without you_

_Why must we complicate  
Every breath we take?  
Why can't you see we'll be alright?_

_Nothing disappears  
Even the pain we've been through  
But all I need is here  
Don't wanna live without you_

_\- Simplify, Young the Giant._  


###### 

It was Monday, May 5th and Kenma was anxiously drumming his fingers against the slightly sticky wood of the coffee shop table he was sitting at. 

He turned to his right and looked out the window, the early afternoon sun leaving a harsh glint in Kenma’s eyes from the reflection on the glass. That’s when he saw Akaashi walk past the window, backpack hiked over his shoulders, wearing a knee length lilac coat. 

Kenma thought it suited him really well. 

The bell as the door opened resounded a little ‘ding’ throughout the coffee shop, announcing the assistants arrival. Kenma stretched his neck high, trying to make himself seem taller to get Akaashi’s attention, resulting in standing up and waving him over. 

The youtuber sighed as he sat back down; _he really didn’t want to draw everyone's attention to himself._

He figured the obsidian haired man had terrible eyesight from far away without his glasses on. 

Amused, Kenma felt a little smile tug at the edge of his mouth despite himself. 

As Akaashi pulled his chair out, he noticed the bemused look, his own eyebrow quirking up in question; “What is it, Kenma-san?” 

He shook his head, before another question came to mind; “Nothing, I was just wondering where your satchel went, is all,” Kenma played it off coolly. 

Akaashi smiled as he placed it on the back of his chair, sitting down; “The zip broke on it, so I figured I should get something more sturdier.”

“Ah, I see.”

As much as Kenma and Akaashi hung out on their own without Kuroo and Bokuto, Akaashi couldn’t help but think this time seemed different. 

Instead of hanging out to enjoy each other’s company or for fun, he had the sense of dread that Kenma had wanted to talk about something different; hence why the sudden text he got at 3AM this morning, asking if they could meet at lunch time. 

Akaashi’s voice softened, “Kenma-san, is everything alright? I would have asked over text but I thought it’d be best to ask in person.” 

Kenma smiled; he was glad he had found another best friend he could trust. He was glad Bokuto had introduced them, because he found they had a lot in common and got along exceptionally well, seeing as he doesn’t really open up to many people in the first place. 

It was nice to have another friend Kenma could confide in. 

He just hoped he was doing the right thing. 

He had to get it out of his system. 

“Akaashi, I don’t want to sound like a five year old but, promise you won’t say anything? Not even to Bokuto?” He leaned in, heartbeat pounding. 

He already knows that Bokuto knows. He’s not stupid, Bokuto is to Kuroo what Akaashi is to him, afterall. He’s grateful for Bokuto acting normal around the two of them for seven years. 

Akaashi stared Kenma in the eyes, not breaking the gaze as he nodded, a sign that he knows he can trust him; "I promise." 

Kenma sat back, and took a large breath of air. 

“Kuroo came home drunk last night.”

Akaashi did a double take; “What?” 

“And it’s not the first time either.” 

Akaashi knew that this wasn’t just Kuroo going out to have some fun and planning to get drunk, situation. He figured if that were the case, Kenma wouldn’t be looking at him in such an almost _pleading_ way, nor was the serious edge in his usually soft voice anything to go by. 

“I-What happened?” 

Kenma took another gulp of air, figuring Akaashi was most likely going to be late back to work. 

Kenma picked at the frays of the sleeves on his red, oversized hoodie. 

“I think you should at least get a drink first, it’s a long story.” 

The blue eyed man didn’t miss the way his shoulders hunched over, a sad lilt to the corner of his lips.

###### 

Half an hour later, and one very _very_ long explanation later, Akaashi had finally heard everything that Kenma had to say. 

Looking back on it, Akaashi now understood what Bokuto had meant about Kuroo and Kenma the night he came out to him. 

He knew something was going on between them, anyone could tell just by the way Kuroo stared at the younger man. 

But he also knew that they hadn't put a label on it. 

He also knew something was up the night he had slept round Kenma's, and Kuroo had mentioned something about wanting to go pro at volleyball. 

_That's why Kenma had looked at him weirdly for the rest of the night when Kuroo started joking about—_

"And I think that's why he came home drunk last night," —Akaashi's thoughts got cut off. 

Now Akaashi understood. 

Akaashi felt ridden with sympathy for his friend. To know that they both loved each other, but there was _just something_ that both of them were going through that caused a block in their relationship, pained him. 

This wasn't as simple as Kuroo and Kenma sitting down over a cup of coffee and talking it out. Kenma had mentioned that he had tried to communicate hundreds of times, but in the end it just made Kuroo shut off from him even more. 

Love is a weird, beautiful, _tragic_ thing, Akaashi thought. 

"Kenma-san, I'm so sorry for what the both of you have gone through. Nobody deserves to be put in that position," he said genuinely. 

Kenma had stopped picking at the sleeves of his hoodie, instead now moving to trace coffee cup rims into the wood of the table. 

He looked up to the assistant, and he gave him a small, bittersweet smile before averting his eyes once again;

"Bad things happen to good people I guess," Kenma mumbled quietly. 

Akaashi didn't say anything, instead gave a short nod of his head, knowing that in fact, it was true. 

_Very true._

Except, who was the universe to decide what good and bad things happened to you? Surely that was down to _yourself._

With new found confidence, and not knowing what else to say, he spoke up. 

He looked over to Kenma, who was still looking down. 

"Good things always come to those who wait," Akaashi said. 

Akaashi knew that it wasn't a groundbreaking, most helpful thing to say, but as long as it could give Kenma a glimmer of hope, that's all that mattered. 

Hope could go a long way, afterall.

Kenma stopped tracing the wood and looked up at Akaashi. 

He smiled. 

Akaashi took that as a win, seeing as it was the widest smile he had seen the YouTuber wear today. 

And although Kenma had felt as though he had been waiting his whole life for Kuroo, no doubt that Nekoma's model felt the same. 

Kenma figured he could keep on waiting, at least until the day Kuroo finally felt ready enough to sit him down and talk about everything. 

At least until he knew _for sure,_ Kuroo had come to terms and accepted everything that had ever made him shut off. 

_You always wait for the people you love most, afterall._

Kenma figured he could keep on waiting, even if it was forever. 

After a few more minutes, they went back to casual conversation. 

"So," Kenma sipped on his apple and kiwi smoothie, "how are you and Bokuto?"

Akaashi narrowed his eyes, _trick question,_ he thought to himself. 

He was beginning to learn day by day that Kenma had a more mischievous, cheeky side to him. 

He also knew that Kenma was very analytical and perceptive, almost more than himself, he thought sometimes. 

He didn't like the idea of Kenma knowing about his secret, so he brushed past it. 

"Bokuto-san's good, I'm happy he is back to his cheerful self." 

Kenma hummed in agreement, thankful as well. 

_Nobody_ liked to see Bo like that. 

_Speaking of Bokuto,_ Kenma thought… 

Kenma glanced over Akaashi's shoulder, behind him at where the shop counter was.

Akaashi could see Kenma's mouth tilt up at the side around his straw. 

_What now?_ Akaashi groaned inwardly. 

He looked over his own shoulder, following his friend's line of sight. 

He whipped his head back around immediately, a slight blush colouring his cheeks, knowing _exactly_ what Kenma was getting at. 

_He really is perceptive,_ Akaashi thought annoyedly. 

Kenma tore his eyes away from where all of the coffee shops cookies were on display, happy at the reaction he had been hoping to get out of the ocean eyed man. 

"I can explain," Akaashi said as soon as Kenma met his own eyes again. 

Kenma smirked, "Okay, because to me there seems to be _very few_ peanut butter cookies left." 

This time, it was Akaashi's turn to glance down at the table. 

"Well it is lunch time…" Akaashi tried coming up with an excuse, to no avail. 

_Nobody_ could fool Kenma.. 

"Fine. They don't get thrown out, in fact they _never_ do. They are the most popular cookies here, so I always have to get up extra early in order to get them for Bokuto-san." 

"Happy?" Akaashi huffed out 

Kenma, clearly very _happy_ with his answer, smiled at Akaashi. 

"Well, that's very thoughtful and a lot of hassle to go through for someone you barely knew at the time," Kenma pointed out. 

Akaashi sighed, "Yeah, I know. But I figured he gets stressed out enough, so when I found out they were his favourite, I made it a habit to get them along with the coffees every morning." 

Akaashi smiled faintly to his friend opposite him, raising his eyebrows, "Promise not to say anything?" 

Kenma let a small laugh, _"I promise."_

Kenma decided to carry on the conversation; 

"Because of you, Kuroo complains that I should get him cookies every day too," Kenma rolled his eyes. 

Akaashi laughed, "Just make sure you stock up on marshmallows everyday, I'm sure he'll be fine." 

"For someone who claims they don't have a sweet tooth, he sure does live off of them," Kenma found himself giggling. 

They spoke for a bit longer before realising the time. 

Akaashi had long since finished his coffee, and Kenma went up to the counter to return his plate of which he had scoffed down the apple pie upon it. 

Akaashi looked down at his watch: he was going to be late back to work. 

_I'm never late…_ Akaashi reminded himself. 

_Although I'm sure Bokuto-san won't mind._

Kenma made his way over to Akaashi, knowing it was time they should probably get going. 

However just before they got up to leave, a notification popped up onto Akaashi's phone. 

_Spring Vogue launches: The Nekoma x Fukurodani you have all been waiting for._

Since Akaashi had joined Fukurodani as Bokuto's personal assistant, Bokuto had made him set up a twitter account, claiming it'd be 'fun for the public'. 

As he stared down at the hundreds of notifs from companies and fan tweets flooding his mentions, he was beginning to regret it. It's not like _he_ was the famous one. 

Although a few tweets from some fans caught his attention in particular... 

Kenma looked over Akaashi's shoulder, wondering what was taking him so long. 

_Omg!! Kuroo and Bokuto look so good together!_

_I'M SCREAMING,,, I've been waiting for this forever_ 😭 

Akaashi muted his notifications. He didn't like to think about the sinking feeling in his gut. 

Kenma sighed, "Don't worry, fans do this stuff all the time. It sucks and sometimes they go too far, but they mean well." 

Akaashi nodded, knowing that stuff like this was most likely going to happen anyway, especially considering what Bokuto had told him about the media and fans that night at his. 

When they pushed through the glass doors and out onto the somewhat peaceful street, Kenma stopped him by the windows. 

"Hey Akaashi, thank you for listening to me about Kuroo and everything, I'm sorry you're going to be late back for work," Kenma winced apologetically. 

Akaashi smiled back at him, "It's no problem Kozume-San, if you ever need anything, I'm one text away." 

Kenma nodded his head, *Same goes for you too." 

"Oh and Akaashi?" 

"Hm?" Akaashi turned back around. 

"You can drop the honorifics. I know I've already told you and you just like to be overly polite, but we are way past that now." 

Kenma looked up at his friend, "Just call me Kenma." 

Akaashi nodded, a smile tugging at his lips; "Yeah you're right." 

"And one last thing, you'll tell me if there's anything that's ever bothering you too, right? I'm here for you just as much as you are for me." 

Akaashi appreciated the thought behind Kenma letting him know that, although he also knew there was a double meaning behind it. Akaashi felt like kicking himself. 

He really was way too analytical. 

"Of course, thank you very much. I hope you and Kuroo manage to sort things sooner than later." 

"I hope so too," he raised his hand, waving bye to Akaashi. 

"See you soon, Kenma." 

And with Kenma feeling like he had just a little bit of weight lifted from his shoulders, he walked back home to where his subscribers were waiting. 

_A problem shared is a problem halved, afterall._

###### 

It was the start of Bokuto's lunch break, and Akaashi had said that he couldn't go with Bokuto to Himawari today since he wanted to go out with Kenma instead. 

For some unknown reason, whenever he heard that Akaashi and Kenma had their own plans, it made him extremely happy. 

He didn't know why. 

He was currently strolling through the park with Kuroo that he and Akaashi always feed the ducks in on the way back from lunch. 

Bokuto wasn't stupid. The second Kuroo had text him saying could they meet for lunch like they used to, he had a little inkling that it also had something to do with Akaashi meeting Kenma suddenly. 

Bokuto glanced over to where Kuroo was strolling beside him; he was wearing sunglasses, even though the weather had turned very cloudy all of a sudden, and Bokuto knew it wasn't just for 'disguise'. 

He saw the bags and tiredness clinging to the edges of the rooster haired man's eyes, and he knew that he had a killer hangover. 

_Not again Kuroo, please…_

"Hey hey hey bro, we've just been walking for fifteen minutes without speaking, what's up?" He tried to clear the air and make it a little more lighthearted. 

Kuroo wordlessly made his way to sit on a nearby park bench, motioning for Bo to follow him. 

He took his sunglasses off, looking Bokuto dead in the eyes. 

_Woah, he really does look like shit…_

"Look Kuroo, you know I love you man, but what's going on? Please tell me you haven't been drinking again…" 

Kuroo sighed and looked up to the sky remorsefully. 

Bokuto's heart sank. 

Ever since the night Kuroo got told he couldn't be a professional volleyball player, he had a tendency to go out and get drunk most nights. 

After the first few months of wallowing in self pity, Kuroo decided he needed to change for the better, and finally took up the offer on the job Bokuto's father had managed to get him at Nekoma. 

From then on, he slowly but surely made his way to the top, and quit drinking altogether. Although he knew that him and Kenma still had unspoken things between them still… 

"Kuroo, you promised you wouldn't hurt yourself like that again," Bokuto felt the need to break the silence. 

He couldn't keep seeing his best friend like this. It was getting ridiculous. 

"Do you know how many times me and Kenma have had to watch you throw yourself downhill again and again?" 

Kuroo huffed, "Just _please,_ I know. I know I'm the biggest fucking idiot on the planet, _I know._ B-but I can't _help_ it." 

Bokuto reached over when he saw the unshed tears glistening in his best friend's eyes. 

He patted him on the back before hugging him close. 

Everyone had their breaking point, Bokuto was beginning to realise, even those who you thought were the strongest. 

He hadn't seen Kuroo cry like this since that night in the hospital, the night of Kenma's graduation. 

"Everything's going to work out Tetsu, don't worry, you and Kenma just have to talk about it," although Bokuto knew it wasn't as simple as that, years worth of physical and mental pain would never just be as easy as that. 

But he hoped, even if they could just confront their feelings and problems to one another _properly,_ then they could get through it together without hurting one another even more. 

_They always did get through everything together._

"I know, I know," Kuroo sobbed into Bokuto's shoulder. 

Luckily the park was fairly empty. 

"If you really love him as much as you say you do, you would sit him down and face your fears of him rejecting you because of your past. Which is stupid in the first place since he's been by your side through it all," Bokuto chuckled. 

Kuroo sniffed wetly, tears and snot coating the owl-like man's jacket. 

"I do love him Kou, more than _anything._ But if we are together properly again, I feel like I'll hurt him even more because of my own problems and self worth." 

Kuroo's cries had calmed down, and Bokuto could feel the wetness seeping through his shirt. 

"Then tell him that. Tell him everything you just said to me, to Kenma." 

Kuroo hummed, "I'm not _good enough_ for him Bo, I took everything for granted back then, including Kenma." 

"He deserves better, I won't make the same mistakes again," he murmured. 

Bokuto didn't speak for a moment before saying quietly; "But is leading him on any better?" His eyes going wide at his best friend as he lifted his head from his shoulder. 

Kuroo contemplated for a few minutes, just staring wide eyed at Bokuto; "You're right, I'm just hurting him even more. It's not my intention to do that, you know that, i-it just happens," Kuroo finished off. 

"I know Kuroo, I know," Bokuto said reassuringly before pulling him close again. 

After another half an hour and multiple jokes later, they both decided it was time to head back, already being ten minutes late. 

Before they parted way however, both their phones went off; 

"Well, I guess the fans liked this magazine in particular," Bokuto joked. 

Kuroo laughed, "We knew what to expect though." 

"Mmh, yeah you're right." 

Bokuto didn't know why he was worried about Akaashi seeing all the fan tweets and posts… 

He knew Kuroo and he were just best friends and _nothing_ more. Hopefully if he did see it, Kenma would have reassured him by now. 

_Why would Kenma have to reassure him? Don't be stupid Kou, Akaashi is straight._

Kuroo, noticing his best friend's dejected mood all of a sudden, reached out to place his hand upon his shoulder. 

"Hey Bo, you know you can tell me if there's anything on your mind right?" 

Bokuto looked up, shaking himself off; "Yeah, yeah I know bro! I was just thinking is all." 

Kuroo smiled as he removed his hand, "Good, because I think you're gonna want to change your shirt when you get back," he said grimacing as he wiped his palms off on his jeans. 

"Hey! It's your fault you covered me in your snot!" 

Kuroo laughed his atrocious laugh, "I'm sorry bro," but smirked nonetheless. 

Bokuto let it slide. He was glad Kuroo had cheered up and got something off his chest, even if it was a little bit.

###### 

Bokuto and Akaashi had both ended up being twenty minutes late, Bokuto pounding through the glass doors and shouting a quick "HEY" and "BYE!" to Yukie and Kaori at the desk before rushing over to the elevators. 

Akaashi had come rushing through the glass doors a few seconds later, just as the lift doors shut for his boss. 

Yukie let Akaashi through, eyeing his mussed up hair and flushed face, before he jogged over to the elevators, pressing all four of them hurriedly.

Yukie glanced over to Kaori where the blonde just smirked in a 'I told you so look'. Yukie just rolled her eyes and laughed. 

After Akaashi's patience was growing incredibly thin and all four of the elevators were occupied, he figured he'd just have to make a dash for the stairs. 

_Ugh, that's a lot of floors._

He shrugged, knowing he could probably use the exercise. 

Five minutes later, he _finally_ reached his floor, seeing Bokuto just about to open the doors to their workspace. 

"Bokuto-san!" Akaashi shouted out, getting him to hold on the doors. 

As he reached the top model, he realised that he had also been late, his breathing only beginning to slow down itself.

 _Huh, we both must have ran here then,_ they thought simultaneously. 

They pushed through the doors, and stopped in their tracks. 

The rest of Fukurodani were already sitting at their desks, back from lunch a while ago. 

Even Konoha. 

They looked up from their laptops and work, all with equally amused faces and smirks plastered to their lips. 

Akaashi glared, knowing what they were probably getting at if it was anything to go by both of their _very_ dishevelled looks. 

Bokuto was the first to say something. 

"Hey stop staring! I get that we were late but we had important stuff to do!" 

Akaashi face planted his hand to his face, making it redder than it already was. 

Everyone burst out snickering, Komi with a "Yeah, we can tell," to which they all laughed even more hysterically. 

Bokuto stared at them, a confused look on his face before shrugging it off nonchalantly and a "That worked out pretty well 'Kaashi!" before walking through to his own office. 

Akaashi groaned before un-eloquently sitting down on his chair. 

"So~" Konoha singsonged—

"Don't even," Akaashi bit out. 

"But I wasn't gonna—!" 

"Don't lie Konoha," Washio replied. 

Konoha scoffed, "Who's side are you on! You were all just thinking the same thing a few seconds ago!" 

They all laughed, "Yeah but that's different, they probably just got here at the same time," Sarukui laughed. 

"But still," Onaga snickered, "You have to admit how funny that was." 

They all laughed and nodded, agreeing with him before Konoha let out a squawk of; "See!" 

Akaashi sighed, removing his head from his desk, "Nothing happened! It was a _coincidence,_ we were both late from meeting Kuroo and Kenma." 

With a few more smiles and smirks his way, they all went back to work and returned to their normal atmosphere. 

_As if_ that was anything different.

###### 

That night when Kuroo walked through the penthouse, he slowly removed his shoes in the hallway, craning his neck to see where Kenma was sitting crossed legged, intense eyes focused on the game he was playing whilst simultaneously responding to fan questions and chats.

Kuroo smiled softly.

Despite knowing Kenma was livestreaming on camera, he padded over to where he was sitting on the floor before sitting down himself, behind the shorter man. 

Kenma noticed him through his camera on the TV, startled and blushing as Kuroo wrapped his long arms around Kenma's waist and burying his face in the crook of his neck. 

"K-Kuro, what are you doing?" 

Kuroo just sighed contently before digging his face in further, murmuring; _"Everything will work out, I promise."_ But still quiet enough so that Kenma's mic couldn't pick up on it. 

And with that, Kenma smiled the softest he had that day, turning back to his livestream. 

He ignored the sudden influx of his fans chatbox, saying hings such as;

 _Omg, we haven't seen Kuroo on one of your livestreams in ages!!_ 🥰

 _I'm so happy he's back yayayay!_ <3

 _Awhhh rooster hair is back!_ 💜✨

 _AWW you guys are so cute, I was beginning to think something had happened when he disappeared!!_ 💞

Kenma didn't answer any of them, instead just smiled contently and continued on finishing his livestream, answering any other questions his fans had. 

That night as Kenma felt strong arms wrap around him as he got into bed, the last thought he had before drifting off in a peaceful slumber was;

_I promise everything will work out soon, too…_

###### 

To be continued in the next chapter …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go!! I left more hints to Kuroo's fatal night...Also i'm happy we're getting more insight to his thoughts! I'm sorry this was such a short chapter, but I see it more as a filler type of thing for what's about to come! Also sorry if it was fast paced/boring but...it had impotant info haha! 
> 
> Tell me what you thought! 
> 
> Until then, Bon 💜


	11. Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi hiiiii!! 
> 
> I am so sorry for how long this chapter took, despite is being the shortest chapter...My motivation hasn't been all that great lately amongst other things, but all in all I hope you enjoy this chapter nonetheless!! 
> 
> It's a little fast paced, but it's more of a filler chapter like the previous one again!! 
> 
> Enjoy!!

_My heart was there for the taking  
With ten ways to break it, you started with one  
The further that we get from faking  
It's harder to shake it and harder to run_

_How long, how long can we stay afloat?  
How long, how long before we let go?_

_Swimmin' in the deep end, waitin' on the weekend  
We can be who we are  
We don't really need that "he said, she said" bullshit  
Tearin' us apart_

_I ain't scared of drownin' with you here in my arms  
Swimmin' in the deep end, oh-oh  
In the deep end, oh-oh_

_Swimming In The Deep End, Billy Raffoul_

###### 

It was now Friday 9th of May, the long awaited all companies crossover event that had long since been anticipated since the first Vogue magazine had been published, had now arrived. 

And Akaashi was already looking forward to the day being over and done with. 

Akaashi sighed into the warm air, waiting in Fukurodani's parking lot for the other companies to pull up in order to greet them. 

Akaashi knew that this meant there would be more crowds of people, and he would also be having to deal with _Oikawa's_ ignorant ass all day… 

But another thing Akaashi also knew he would have to be dealing with, the more _prominent thing,_ was the fact that he would have to painfully stand by on the sidelines and see Bokuto in those _sinfully_ tight clothes again… 

_And he couldn't go through what he did last time._

He wouldn't _let_ himself… 

After the huge scandal that Akaashi was somehow part of too regarding the whole 'bokuroo' media speculation amongst fans, Akaashi had found himself becoming jealous. 

More jealous than he had _ever_ felt before in his whole life… 

He hated himself for the fact that he couldn't do anything about it. 

And of course, today Akaashi was going to be seeing him pose with Kuroo all over again. 

Akaashi knew he was being stupid, he knew that Kuroo loved Kenma, and that he and Bokuto were just 'best bros', but he still couldn't help the guilty feeling he had in the pit of his stomach. 

Thankfully, Kenma had also tagged along for today, like he had last time. Akaashi found himself being extremely grateful for it. 

Kenma and Akaashi were standing in the car park, waiting for everyone to pull up in their company coaches, Akaashi ticking off his check list one by one.

"Hey Akaashi, isn't that orange haired one and the tall, grumpy guy next to him, Karasuno's rising top models?" Kenma looked up at him then back over to where Karasuno was piling off their transport. 

"Huh," Akaashi hummed, "I've only been recently keeping up with everything since I got this job, but I think you're correct. Sugawara Koushi and Sawamara Daichi are currently Karasuno's top models and by next year, Hinata and Kageyama are supposed to take over." 

Kenma nodded in response; "I thought so, I've been seeing them everywhere recently." 

Next to pull up were Inarizaki, and Akaashi immediately recognised the famous Miya twins who feature on almost every modeling magazine out there as the front cover. 

Akaashi still couldn't get over the fact that he was surrounded by famous people on the daily. 

After an extra forty minutes of companies pulling up and meeting and greeting everyone, Akaashi and Kenma finally made their way into Fukurodani to where all the vogue manager's were awaiting them to get set up.

During the time that all the models were in their dressing rooms (fukurodani had floors worth of them), Akaashi had taken a liking to two of Karasuno's assistants; A young, blonde petite girl, and standing next to her, a tall, raven haired woman. 

Akaashi and Kenma had come to learn that their names were Kiyoko and Yachi, and that Yachi had only recently joined Karasuno as she had become made redundant from her old waitressing job. 

"It's good that you've found yourself a nice company to work in, Yachi-san," Akaashi remarked as they were all standing on the sidelines, waiting for the other models to get started. 

A bright grin took over the blonde girl's face, cheerfully responding as she looked up at Akaashi; "Of course I have! Because without this job, I would have never met Kiyoko!" 

Akaashi and Kenma didn't miss the way Kiyoko smiled, pulling in Yachi towards her side, hands wrapping around her waist. 

Yachi blushed profusely before looking up at her girlfriend, smiling ever so softly. 

Despite the sudden sadness that resounded throughout himself, Akaashi's mouth tilted upward, happy that they had found each other. 

Kenma observed the room; he always came to photoshoots for Kuroo, no matter how big or small they were. 

They were all currently situated on the fifteenth floor of Fukurodani; the floor with the largest open plan space to set up all the backdrops and cameras. 

Most of the assistants from the companies were missing; Kenma figured that they would also be shooting along with the models today, since it was vogue and a great opportunity. 

As usual, Kuroo caught Kenma's eye. 

He was currently standing against a pitch black backdrop, his clothes making his tall, slender figure stand out, contrasting against it. 

Kuroo was clad in a red blazer and slacks, the choice of red a bright, blood colour that matched Nekoma's company theme. The shirt underneath was white, a red tie placed upon it. 

He was standing with one knee balancing on top of a metal stool, his elbow resting on top of it, his torso leaning forward slightly as he rested his chin on his hand. 

What really made Kenma stop to think, was the fact of how Kuroo's eyes looked slightly unfocused. He was putting on a face for the cameras, Kenma quickly realised. 

He was smirking, putting on a sultry look for the magazine he was to be featured on, but Kenma saw past that; Kenma knew he was missing a certain glint to his eyes. 

He thought last night had changed that, yet when Kenma had woken up this morning, the bed was already empty; just the dent left the only sign that last night was real. 

Kenma knew they still had a long way to go… 

Kenma gently nudged Akaashi, who was still standing next to him, and Kenma could tell he was trying to restrain himself from looking in a certain someone's direction; although Akaashi would die before he admitted it to him. 

"Look, Yaku and Lev are modeling again," Kenma mumbled. 

Akaashi looked over to where Nekoma was set up, and there they were. Nekoma's two assistant's modeling again, standing _ever so closer_ than they were than last time. 

He had a feeling that it wasn't vogue's doing this time round, but rather themselves. 

Gathering up most of the will power Akaashi felt as though he would need, he finally spared a glance over to where Fukurodani were. 

Luckily, the first person his eyes pinned on wasn't Bokuto, but rather the other models instead. 

_Huh,_ Akaashi thought to himself, _even Sarukui is modeling with Washio and Konoha._

Even Kiyoko and Yachi had long since gone and set up for their own shoot. 

"It looks as if even all the assistants are modeling too, today," Akaashi said to Kenma. 

Kenma just hummed, agreeing with him. 

"Excuse me, but you're Kodzuken, from youtube right?" 

Out of seemingly nowhere, a small woman appeared in front of them both, holding a clipboard and darting her eyes about nervously. 

Kenma's eyes slightly widened in shock from being pointed out of the sidelines. 

"Yeah I am, is there anything I can help you with?" Kenma said not unkindly, knowing how approaching people can be a daunting thing. 

"Well, my boss told me that I should ask to see if you wanted to model. You're one of the most famous youtubers out there _and_ you're best friends with the models featuring in it." 

Kenma sputtered, not knowing what else to say, or, if he was going to get away with saying no. 

Suddenly, the small woman turned her head towards Akaashi, looking up at him. She looked at him, a questioning glint in her eyes. 

Akaashi almost could feel the question on the tip of her tongue before she even said it. 

She glanced down at her clipboard; "You are Akaashi Keiji, Bokuto Koutarou's personal assistant, right?" 

He nodded; "Yes I am." 

She looked back up at him, brown eyes hosting a sudden intensity that made Akaashi afraid of saying no; "You are the only assistant not modeling, would you also like to have your opportunity?" 

Mimicking Kenma's own eyes from a few minutes ago, Akaashi's own ones blew open in surprise. 

"Thank you very much, but I don't think I'd feel right to do something such as modelling," Akaashi responded back politely. 

The woman looked between the two of them, cogs turning in her brain. 

"I know! Why don't the two of you model together?! You seem to be good friends, so maybe that'll make it feel less daunting for the both of you." 

Akaashi and Kenma turned their heads to look at each other; she had a point. 

Kenma shrugged whilst Akaashi nodded at him, albeit still hesitant. 

They turned back to the vogue manager, who smiled brightly at the both of them, her mission accomplished. 

After an extra half an hour of getting Akaashi and Kenma set up for their shoot, and some of the other models leaving their own sets to have a break, the YouTuber and assistant had finally been situated in their own set, ready to be photographed. 

Despite how nervous Akaashi was, with Kenma by his side he felt himself feeling a little better. That didn't stop Akaashi from feeling all the eyes around the room on him, his heart rising to his throat, his heart pounding in his chest, the sudden erraticness of his pulse, the—

He willed to calm himself down; _Stop Keiji, you know most of these people, they're not judging you, they do this as their job._

After a few more minutes of steeling his own nerves and getting told to "pose in a way that felt natural," Akaashi found himself staring into the black hole of the camera lens. 

The lights were blinding him, no doubt blinding spots into Kenma's vision as well, but he figured it would only be for a few more minutes. 

It wasn't until the last couple of shots that both the youtuber and assistant had felt piercing, unrelenting gazes on them from the other side of the room. 

They looked over, only to find both Kuroo and Bokuto gawking at them, mouths hanging wide open, although Kuroo managed to shut his as soon as Kenma looked him in the eyes. 

For some unknown reason, Akaashi suddenly felt a wave of confidence rush over him. 

It felt good to be confident for a change. 

Kenma on the other hand, wasn't focusing on the feeling of anyone else's eyes on him, knowing the attention had turned to their own jobs. But as long as he had Kuroo's attention, that's all he found himself wanting. _Needing._

Kenma quirked the side of his mouth up; an amused smirk, locking dead onto Kuroo's eyes. 

Kuroo felt all the heat rush to his face; cheeks burning. 

_Where the hell did that come from?!_ His brain squawked at him. 

He found himself relishing in it nonetheless, whipping his head to the side and breaking the intense eye contact before he burst into flames. 

"Hey Bo, u-um when is our next—" But Kuroo cut off his speech as soon as he turned his head to face his best friend, who's eyes were wide and glazed over. 

As Kuroo travelled his line of sight, he knew who would be on the end of it before even looking himself. 

Akaashi Keiji was standing there, in all his sudden mischievous glory, in a teal button up shirt, top few buttons open revealing his chest, and a loose tie slung around his neck. 

Although Kuroo found himself thinking no man on earth looked better than Kenma did right now, _anytime,_ Kuroo knew that Akaashi was a soft spot for Bokuto. 

And if it was anything to go by the sultry smirk Akaashi was giving the owl-like man, and the drool Kuroo could _swear_ was beginning to form at the edge of his mouth, he knew Bokuto was starting to feel the same rush of feelings he just went through himself, but with Kenma. 

Kuroo smacked his best friend on his back in a 'get a grip' way, although he knew he himself couldn't talk. 

_The hypocrite._

Bokuto's mouth slammed shut, eyes blinking as he shook his head furiously. 

Kuroo resulted in patting his back one last time, and decided it would be best to leave him; he walked away, shaking his head sympathetically, an amused smile on his face at his friend's antics.

###### 

A few hours later of camera flashes, bright blinding lights, and the clicks of cameras taking shots, the day was over before Akaashi knew it. 

It had been an eventful day to say the least, with all the top Modeling companies from japan getting to know each other. 

He had noticed that Yaku and Sugawara got along really well, both standing on the sidelines as they bickered about each of their companies loud mouths; Yamamoto and Tanaka.

Surprisingly, Oikawa hadn’t bothered Akaashi all that much today, either - well except from lunch where Oikawa had stolen the last onigiri even though he knew it was Akaashi’s favourite. 

But now, standing where he was, even Akaashi could hear the whines coming from Seijoh’s top model of “But Iwa-chaannn!” 

Akaashi had thought that Kuroo and Daichi got along rather well too, and although he knew from Tadashi And Tsukki that Sugawara wasn't a jealous person, Akaashi could see the way Kenma and Suga were both standing, watching them interact warily. 

Although, this all dissipated when Kuroo had squeezed Daichi's hand a _little too hard,_ and the top model in return had smacked his back with _just a little_ too much oomph. 

Akaashi tore his gaze away, happy to just stand in front of the back doors and observe everyone. 

Atsumu Miya, (one of the famous twins), hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of the top model from Itachiyama all day, with waves and curls that fell to the side, and moles that adorned his face in the most handsomest way. 

Although Akaashi had also noticed the few, _not so subtle glances,_ that Sakusa Kiyoomi had thrown his way too, albeit in a glaring way, almost as if he hated himself for looking at him. 

All the companies were mixing after getting to know each other better, seemingly to have enjoyed themselves overall before they all piled on their private transports, going home for the day. 

He could also hear the relentless "Omi-omi!" getting shout from across the concrete, aimed at a certain someone who repeatedly shouted "Shut up!" back. 

Akaashi smiled, amused as the last warmth from the setting sun bathed half his face. 

A sudden warmth braced his side; much more warmth Akaashi thought he could ever feel from the sun, and didn't have to look up to know who it was. 

"Hey hey hey Kaashi, did you enjoy today?" Bokuto murmured unusually quietly, almost as if the two of them observing all their friends as the sun was setting was a moment made just for them, the birds chirping in the far distance; a comforting melody. 

Akaashi looked to his right, the yellow and Orange hue reflecting in Bokuto's Golden eyes making the green flecks stand out more. 

Akaashi didn't look away this time as Bokuto held his gaze, the tension there again. 

He already knew they were standing closer than they should be. 

"It was nice," Akaashi whispered back. 

Bokuto nodded, staring and drowning in Akaashi's stormy blue eyes; he could tell they held a more sense of calmness today by looking at him. 

His brows hadn't held that usual furrow between them, almost as if he was thinking all the time. His mouth wasn't as taught in an un-expressionless line, but looked soft instead. 

Bokuto found himself thinking back to that night in the car, whirring past the city lights as he found himself wanting to kiss the cupid bow of Akaashi's mouth. 

Except, he held himself back; not wanting to break this moment too. 

They stood there, just enjoying each other's company until the sun had disappeared behind the set of skyscrapers in the distance, all the transport and modelling companies now making their way home. 

The rest of Fukurodani were waving them off, shouting "See you soon!" with Nekoma, who had also stayed to help Vogue put the sets away.

They had all arranged another meet up, but this time Sugawara had decided to hire out a field, hosting a BBQ for all of them as celebration for when the new Vogue magazine got published. 

Akaashi found himself looking forward to it. 

"Hey Akaashi," Bokuto whispered again, "Can I come round tonight?" 

"Yes, of course Bokuto-san,” Akaashi smiled softly.

————

Kuroo smiled softly from the other side of the parking lot as him and the rest of the two companies made their way back inside, happy that Bokuto and Akaashi got along so well.

Kuroo wasn’t a fool, he could see the adoration in Akaashi’s eyes from a few metres away. 

He prayed everything was working itself out. 

"Hey Kuro, what do you want for dinner tonight?" A small voice came from beside him. 

Kuroo looked down, smile ingrained on his face; "Whatever you want, pudding." 

"Okay, take out it is then." 

Kuroo's laugh was a melody into the dusk of the peaceful evening. 

Kenma didn’t miss the way the usual glint had found its way back into Kuroo’s eyes.

He smiled.

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So,,, Haikyuu ended huh?! :( 
> 
> At least we still get to see the amazing content produced by everyone!! And all the friends we met along the way!!!  
> the anime in October too, manifesting it to come out on my birthday lol :) Im going to cry when Akaashi's main arc gets animated...
> 
> Anyways, the next chapter is what I like to call 'The calm before the storm' so ;) 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!! Much love ~ Bon 💜


	12. Heartache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (^0^)

_Before I met you, I pushed them all away  
Soon as I kissed you, I wanted you to stay  
What I like about you is you know who you are  
What you like about me is I know what I'm not_

_And I, I know that you never sleep, oh  
So impossible to dream  
When you're far away from me  
Oh I, I'm all you could ever need, oh  
So impossible to breathe  
I love the way_

_I love the way we worked so hard  
Yeah, we've come so far  
Baby, look at me, you're my superstar  
When I'm afraid, when the world's gone dark  
Come and save my day, you're my superstar_

_You never judge me for any of my fears  
Never turn your back, always keep my body near  
All of the days that we spend apart  
My love is a planet revolving your heart_

_~ Superstar, Marina_

###### 

23rd of May.

The day of the companies BBQ celebration event that Sugawara had hired for all of them; and Akaashi Keiji was in a really good mood and found himself looking forward to it.

Bokuto had ended up staying round Akaashi’s the night before the BBQ, just like he had three weeks ago. They had all gone to Kenma’s penthouse to celebrate the launch of Vogue once again, but this time the celebration was for all of them; being since Kenma and Akaashi had ended up modeling together too. 

And just like last time, Bokuto had left at the same time as Akaashi - Not that that was indifferent, but had also made his way to Akaashi’s apartment despite it being incredibly late already, and also being as they had a long, eventful day to wake up for. 

But despite all of this, Akaashi hadn't said no, in fact was hoping Bokuto would ask if he could come round for the remainder of the night so he wouldn’t have to ask first. 

So that’s how Bokuto had ended up round Akaashi’s, _not that it was anything out of the ordinary._ In fact, it had long since become a routine for them both for a few months now. 

Akaashi still marvelled at the fact of how quick they had slipped into such a comfortable rhythm. 

As the flashes of light flicked across the otherwise dark room from the TV, causing silhouettes to carve into the walls, Akaashi found himself leaning his head back against the sofa. 

He looked over to where Bokuto’s intense eyes were focused on the movie playing on the screen; one Akaashi had talked about at lunch, but was sure Bokuto wouldn’t like. Nonetheless, the model had insisted he’d put it on still. 

Akaashi’s heart fluttered: but he didn’t mind. 

“Hey, Bokuto-san?” 

“Hm?” He turned his head against the sofa, now looking at Akaashi in the same position. 

Flashing shadows painted the side of their cheeks, reflections from the light shining in their eyes in the pitch black room. 

“Stay over tonight?” Akaashi whispered, hopeful lilt in his small voice. 

Bokuto blinked once, twice, then a firm; “Of course.” 

Once the movie had finished, Bokuto having ended up really enjoying it much to Akaashi’s glee, they got ready to settle down for the night. 

Bokuto wearing Akaashi’s too tight pajamas, Bokuto pulling silly and stupid faces at Akaashi through the mirror as they brushed their teeth, Akaashi flicking water at him in order to get him back. 

Just like last time. 

Akaashi went to lay down on the sofa, but was interrupted when he found himself staring up at an upside down face of Bokuto leaning over him. 

Even from this angle, Akaashi could tell the model was giving him a disapproving look of “You know what happened last time,” eyebrows raised suspectedly. 

Akaashi gulped; indeed remembering what happened last time. 

But ever since the day where all the companies had met up and Akaashi had even done a shoot...the sudden urge of confidence he had since then, felt good.  
He hadn’t felt this way in since what had felt like forever.

Akaashi wanted to bathe in it for as long as he could. 

He also found himself keep replaying that moment that seemed like a carving out of time for the both of them. When Bokuto had been standing on the side watching all the companies leave as the sun had begun to set, the birds chirping in the distance. 

He almost felt as though that would have been the perfect time to lean his weight back onto Bokuto’s chest, face buried in the crook of his neck as Bokuto wrapped his arms around his middle, pulling him closer to nuzzle against his cheek...

Ever since that day, despite having thoughts he didn’t want to have, he felt himself giving into them more often than not; entertaining them for a while longer before pushing them away like he normally would have in an instant. 

That night when Akaashi had arrived home, he felt like he had never written so much poetry in his life. 

He also realised he hadn’t had an anxiety attack in a while either, and felt as though it was quite ironic being as he was about to be published in a world wide magazine the next morning. 

And that’s how the past two weeks since the photoshoot had gone; Bokuto coming round every night like he normally would, then celebrating with Kuroo and Kenma for the launch the next day. 

And that is how Bokuto had come to stay around his again. 

Just like last time. 

However, what hadn’t happened this time, was Akaashi waking up with nausea. 

Instead, he smiled, burying himself further into his now Bokuto scented bed sheet, soft linen wrapped around his calves as he sunk himself further into the mattress, smile turned into the pillow as the first morning rays soaked through the blinds. 

Akaashi hummed contently as the homely smell of breakfast cooking wafted its way into the room. 

Maybe it wasn’t _confidence_ as such...but more so _comfortableness._

###### 

Bokuto and Akaashi were now in the model’s transport, on their way to meet all the others for the nice day out in the field. 

Akaashi wondered just how much Suga had to pay to rent out that large of a field for all of them, and all the BBQ stuff, but after all, Sugawara was one of the nicest people Akaashi had ever met. Nice - but cheeky at the same time. 

But then again, Akaashi supposed that he had the money to spare and was told by Bokuto that Daichi had also helped to chip in. 

Five minutes away from their destination, Akaashi’s phone went off. 

He looked down, seeing as it was a text from Tadashi;

Tadashi :)

> Hey Akaashi! Just letting you know that i’m already at the BBQ, can’t wait to see you!! 

Akaashi’s eyebrows furrowed for a second, thinking why his friend was also there; not that he minded, in fact he was excited to have a proper catch up with his friend that had recommended him the business in the first place and had worked in a library with for a few years. 

Just as he was about to ask, another message quickly pinged through; 

> Oh yeah!! I forgot to mention that Suga said everyone could bring a plus one if they wanted, so Tsukki asked me!! (^0^)

“What’s got you smiling at your phone so much huh?” Bokuto asked cheekily, looking over to his right at his assistant. 

Akaashi shut his phone off and placed it back into his pocket; he was wearing white tailored cuffed jeans and a blue, short sleeved button up, perfect for the hot weather. 

“Oh nothing much, an old friend of mine got asked to come to the BBQ.” 

Bokuto nodded, “Ah, the same one you used to work in the library with?”

To which Akaashi nodded, “It’ll be nice to have a catch up with him.”

Bokuto hummed contently, happy that Akaashi would be able to talk to one of his oldest friends that he hadn’t seen in a while.

###### 

The transport pulled up and Akaashi and Bokuto climbed out of the car. As the car began to pull away and Bokuto walked around to meet Akaashi by his side, Akaashi was admiring the view before him. 

It was a large part of lucious green field that had been roped off just for them. In the middle of the field as you made your way through the clearing of trees was multiple canopies set up, with prettily decorated bunting and fairy lights hanging down. Akaashi supposed they would automatically turn on after sunset if they were going to be here until the day finished. 

Akaashi also noticed that if you walked up the little dirt path from where the main canopies with tables and chairs were, there were a few (brand new) portable toilets behind some more dense trees. 

_Woah,_ he thought, _Suga-san must have really gone all out._

The thing that caught Akaashi’s attention the most however, was that through the canopies and down a little hill was a glistening stream of water; trees and marsh slightly hiding it. A quiet place for anyone that needed to be alone. 

“Hey Bo! Get your ass over here!” 

Bokuto chuckled and looked at Akaashi; “You should go find Yamaguchi, Kaashi!” 

Akaashi smiled and nodded; “Will do Bokuto-san.”

Much to Akaashi’s disgrace as he made his way looking for his friend, he realised that him and Bokuto were in fact, the last ones to turn up. 

_Well that’s what you get when you decide to lay in and have a home cooked breakfast,_ he supposed. 

“Hey Akaashi!” A voice shouted from the end canopy. 

Akaashi smiled, Tadashi excusing himself from where he was standing with Tsukishima, Hinata and Kageyama. 

They stood there for a good twenty minutes, just catching up; Tadashi asking about how his literature classes were going and Akaashi asking the freckled man how the library was keeping up, to which he had been promoted to manager. 

After they had finished, Akaashi decided to sit down under one of the canopies, Kenma joining him a few minutes later with a plastic cup of beer in either hand for them both. 

They didn’t need to say much; Akaashi gratefully accepted it with a smile as Kenma pulled out the chair next him, both watching the scene happily play out before them. 

Akaashi noticed that Atsumu and Sakusa were actually standing next to each other, although Atsumu still hadn’t eased down on the teasing, he could see Sakusa making snarky retorts back. 

At least the glare on his face had eased a bit. 

“If they haven’t already got each other's number, they're definitely getting it by the end of the day,” Kenma murmured mischievously to Akaashi. 

Akaashi laughed, having just thought the exact same thing, he turned to Kenma where he was smirking; “I agree.” 

“NO NO KUROO STOP IT!!” 

Akaashi and Kenma both whipped their heads around to where Kuroo and Bokuto were. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Kenma huffed out, albeit with a small smile on his face at the same time. 

Kuroo and Bokuto were rolling around on the grass, wrestling; however, Kuroo had managed to win, and pin Bokuto down and was tickling him all over furiously. 

Almost everyone had stopped to stare by now, everyone laughing at their antics. 

“Ahgasheeee!!!” Bokuto whined out from a few metres away, turning his head to face him. 

Everyone had now turned their attention to Akaashi: but he didn’t mind. 

“Yes Bokuto-san?” Akaashi smirked from where he hadn’t moved an inch from his seat. 

Bokuto short circuited for a second before pouting, realising Akaashi was playing along with Kuroo. 

Kuroo erupted into laughter; “Looks like no ones coming to save you now Bo!!”

“Akaashi you betrayer!!”

Everyone laughed as they resumed what they were doing, Akaashi with the inner thought of; _This is payback for that time on the couch, Bokuto-san._

Ten minutes later and a megaphone blared through the trees. 

“Okay everyone, Koushi and I are going to start cooking the BBQ now, if anyone would like to help us, you’re more than welcome!” 

Akaashi got up to make his way over to Suga in order to see if there was anything he could do to help, along with Yachi, Kita, Sakusa, Komori and Fukunaga. 

As they were chopping vegetables, cutting meat and grilling it, all having their own assigned roles, Suga let out a sudden laugh. 

They all looked over to where he was pointing; Nishinoya, Tanaka and Hinata were all dancing whilst singing what Akaashi could make out was ‘Meaty meat meat’? 

What made them all laugh the most however was Kageyama, who was off to the side but trying his best to be in sync with the same movements his friends were performing. 

Akaashi shook his head as he laughed, grinning down at his peppers he resumed chopping. 

###### 

It had been just over an hour since everyone had settled down at the tables and enjoyed helping themselves to handfuls of buffet BBQ meat and veggies. Groups of friends and companies began to get up and mingle about to go and stand by some trees to talk with drinks, or just sit on the grass and chat as the sun set. 

During that time, Kuroo and Kai had come rushing over to where he and Kenma were sat, both with shit eating grins plastered on their faces. 

“You guys! You never guess who me and Kai just caught making out on our way to the toilets!” 

Kenma groaned; “Kuro, that’s none of our business!” 

Kai perked up a bit then, “Kenma, trust me, you’re going to want to know.” 

Kenma slowly opened his eyes, looking up at them both suspiciously before murmuring quietly; “If it’s not Lev and Yaku then I don’t want to know.” 

Akaashi whipped his head back to where Kuroo and Kai were trying to hold in their bursts of laughter, before getting interrupted by Shibayama running over to them. 

“You guys!! Lev and Yaku are making out by the trees near the toilets!!” 

That was it. Kuroo and Kai burst out laughing; “Yeah, we just saw them too,” Kai responded before clapping Kuroo on the back and walking off, smile on his face. 

“Well, looks like the whole modeling agency knows now,” Kuroo heaved out. 

Kenma smiled knowingly, happy that Lev and Yaku had finally made a move. 

As the tables began emptying out, Akaashi was left by himself, not quite wanting to move from his spot yet, even though Kenma had gone with Kuroo a while ago. 

Hinata and Kageyama were off to the side where the BBQS were; Hinata talking animatedly while Kageyama just stood there, watching him whilst furiously blushing. 

On the next table over, he could see where Kita and Aran still hadn’t moved, Aran having put his jacket over Kita as it was beginning to get a little chilly. Right this moment, Kita was feeding Aran some Onigiri from over his shoulder, where he was sitting in his lap.

During dinner, Akaashi had sat opposite a very tall man called Hirugami Sachiro. They got along extremely well; Hirugami having told Akaashi that Modeling wasn’t really his thing, and although he enjoyed it, he will be quitting at the end of this year in order to go to his dream vet school, which he had now saved enough money up to go. 

Akaashi had responded with goodluck, and had also told him about how he is taking literature classes and one day would like to have a job in the literature department. 

Hirugami was now sitting on top of the hill, a small Hoshiumi tucked into his side. 

And lastly, Akaashi found himself looking over to the furthest canopy. 

Suga and Daichi were under the canopy that had just speakers, and were slow dancing to the relaxing music flowing out of it; Suga’s head buried in Daichi’s neck as they swayed slowly. 

Osamu and Suna had also joined them, slow dancing and mimicking Karasuno’s top models movements. Akaashi had found out from Sakusa that Osamu and Suna were engaged, since they had both joined Inarizarki at the same time, and from there, the rest is history. 

Akaashi stared longer than he should have been, a bittersweet feeling rising in his chest, heart panging at the same time. 

A hand came to rest in the small of Akaashi’s back, causing him to startle and his heart rate to pick up. 

“Hey Kaashi, are you okay?” Bokuto asked as he came to sit in Kenma’s old chair next to him. 

Akaashi smiled at him, nodding. He already missed the warmth of Bokuto’s hand on his back…

“Sorry Bokuto-san, but i’m just going to the toilets, i’ll be back,” Akaashi bowed and walked off. 

Bokuto watched as Akaashi got up, trailing further away. He had a feeling there was something sad within his eyes, but at the same time he knew he would be okay with the smile he had on his face. 

He looked over to where Akaashi had been staring;

 _Oh._

_Now I understand why…_

Bokuto’s heart ached as he looked at his surroundings. At all the ‘to be’s’ and ‘already togethers’. 

He found his mind wandering back to the last few months and how Akaashi had single handedly made his life thousands of times brighter.  
He thought back to these past few weeks and everything he had done for him.  
He looked back on the past few days and reminisced in the domesticity of it all.

Found himself looking back to just _how_ and _when_ he had fallen so hard for Akaashi Keiji...

_Found himself remembering when Akaashi Keiji had become his whole world._

###### 

Oikawa looked off to the side for a split second, Kindaichi rambling on sweetly as Iwa and Kunimi stood to listen. 

He frowned, wondering why Akaashi had walked off so suddenly from where he was sitting next to Bokuto, leaving the owl-like man with such a melancholic look on his face. 

As Akaashi parted through the clearing of trees to walk over the little hill, Oikawa had an idea of where he was heading. 

He looked over to Iwaizumi, who had been watching him this whole time. 

With just one look of unspoken confirmation, Oikawa excused himself and followed Akaashi. 

Two minutes later and Oikawa was standing beside the assistant who had his knees drawn up, chin resting upon them facing the lake. 

Oikawa had to admit; it was a pretty beautiful picture; the sunset hues reflecting off of the sparkling stream. 

He didn’t know exactly why his instincts told him to follow Akaashi and talk to him; but at the same time he had his own idea of what was going on for a while now, and supposed the people closest to them already had it figured out. 

He just thought that maybe everyone around him knew, except from Akaashi himself. 

“This seat taken?” Oikawa finally spoke 

Without even looking in his direction Akaashi nodded; “There’s no seat there anyway.”

Oikawa let out a lighthearted chuckle as he sat down, legs out in front of him facing the lake; “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” 

A moment of silence enveloped them for a few minutes, the swans setting a tranquil scene as they floated across the lake, the endless hum of slight chatter from the others a few metres behind them. 

“You know Aka-chan, we would be best friends in another life.” 

Akaashi scoffed, “What makes you say that?” 

Oikawa hummed thoughtfully, sitting back on his hands and looked up into the sky. 

“Well it's obvious you know about my little predicament. You caught us in the act, afterall.” 

Akaashi blushed, still keeping his gaze dead on the water, “Why are you bringing that up again? Don’t you hate me…? Above all, you fired me for that.” 

“Hm, I don’t hate you Aka-chan,” Oikawa took a short pause. 

“And wasn’t me firing you the best thing that ever happened to you?”

Akaashi broke his gaze and whipped his head around to face Oikawa, who was already staring at him, knowing light shining in his hazel eyes.

“W-what do you mean by that exactly?” 

Oikawa tutted, “Now now, i’m not trying to be rude, call me nosy but, you look so much happier since you began working for Fukurodani. They must make you really happy and treat you well. Better than I did, anyway,” Oikawa softly mumbled. 

Akaashi nodded, “They do, I never thought i’d enjoy this job again after working for you, but I don’t think that anymore.”

“Ouch Aka-chan! You hurt my feelings,” Oikawa feigned with a pout. 

This brought a small smile upon Akaashi’s lips, and Oikawa couldn’t have hoped for a better reaction. 

He still didn’t know what his main goal here was, but if it was anything to go by what he had come to know and observe, then he had to make Akaashi realise or even confront something before they all made their way home. 

And if his intuition was anything to go by, the next step was how to tell the assistant without seeming rude and more ignorant than he clearly already thought of him. 

...

“I like men.” 

Akaashi did a double take; that was the last thing he was expecting to come out of Oikawa’s mouth. 

“Anndd I’m in love with Hajime,” Oikawa singsonged although his own heart was beating erratically. 

If Akaashi knew where this was going, then he wouldn’t have lied to Bokuto and come to sit here in the first place. What was Oikawa expecting him to admit? Especially to _him_ after the way he has acted. 

“That’s nice Oikawa-san, I’m happy for you,” Akaashi tried to say as intently as he meant it. 

“Mhm, well it feels better to say it out in the open and get it off of your chest. My shoulders feel a whole lot lighter now...even though i’ve already known it myself for a while, it doesn’t help to keep pushing it to the back of your mind all the time.” 

He looked Akaashi dead into his eyes as he said the last part. 

Akaashi felt bile rise in his throat. 

He couldn’t keep pretending anymore, especially if people around him had started to realise his secret…

_No no no, Keiji, calm down, Oikawa is just being the person he is._

But at the same time Akaashi knew this man sitting next to him was more clever than he would ever let on, he always knew more than meets the eye. 

He supposed it was both a blessing and a curse. 

Right now however, Akaashi knew it was a curse. 

And if Oikawa of all people knows... _what exactly is he trying to get at?!_

“I don't think it’s the best thing that’s happened to you because you got Fukurodani,” Oikawa said slowly, careful to not scare Akaashi away.

Oikawa knew this was a big thing after all, but he thought if he could _just nudge_ Akaashi in the right direction; that it was okay, normal, he knew that Akaashi would regret it if he didn’t do anything about it sooner. 

Oikawa didn’t want to see a good person with a kind heart go through the same thing he did, if not worse. 

“It’s the best thing that’s happened to you because of _one_ person…” 

It took him a few minutes to register Oikawa's words fully, but once he had, everything came crashing down on him like a tidal wave. 

Akaashi thought back to when he first met Bokuto at the interview, how he remembered his bright eyes lighting up every time Akaashi said something funny or meaningful. He thought back to when they got lunch together for the first time and they had learnt a lot more about each other. 

He found himself remembering all the times Bokuto had come round after work. The tickle fights, the sleep overs, the walks in the parks and laughing in the rain from all the adrenaline of being seen. 

Of everything Bokuto had ever given him, taught him. Kuroo and Kenma. Learning how to become more confident. Konoha and Washio and the whole of Fukurodani. All of the modeling agencies. 

Seeing that painfully raw, vulnerable Bokuto for the first time. Being there for him. 

That night where they had held hands, the darkness of Akaashi’s bedroom swallowing everything else up. Watching the sunset and feeling like there was something _pulling_ him to lean back onto his chest. 

_The tension._

The painful, but yet so blissful and comfortable moments of silence where they just stood to stare, grateful and admiring each other. That night in the car where they were _so close, yet so far away._

_The domesticity._

This morning when Akaashi had woken up, bathed in the warm sunlight as Bokuto had bought breakfast to bed for the both of them. 

_Bokuto running his hands through his hair, thinking Akaashi was still asleep before making his way into the kitchen…_

It wasn’t just about these moments: It was Bokuto Koutarou as a _whole._

It was everything Akaashi had come to let himself slowly surrender to this past week, in these few pockets of time. Slowly succumbing to his thoughts when he let his mind wander deeper into the _what ifs_ and future and feelings, instead of pushing them away instantly. 

Akaashi found himself thinking about how he had always thought Bokuto shined the brightest; in any crowd, in any room.  
Anytime and any place. If Bokuto was there, Akaashi would know. 

He paused, letting all his thoughts that were flooding in catch up for a second; just enough so he could _breathe..._

He found himself thinking just when and how he had always known Bokuto Koutarou was his _star._

He slowly looked over to where Oikawa was sitting, watching him with something akin to sympathy and kindness in his eyes. 

Akaashi blinked back the tears in his eyes as he had come to a concrete realisation. 

Oikawa was right. 

Maybe Akaashi had known the truth about what he had felt for the model for a long time now, but he had always pushed it to the back of his mind. 

Maybe it would feel better to get it off his chest, scream it out to the world or even quietly tell someone; the man sitting next to him even. 

That’s the thing...Akaashi had known for a while. He thought he had known since the first day he laid eyes on Bokuto. 

At least this time he had fully admitted it, even if it was just to _himself._

But one thing he couldn’t do, _wouldn't let himself do,_ was say it.

_Say_ it out loud. 

That was another thing for another time entirely. 

There was a reason why he had been pushing it down, locking it away this whole time. 

He just didn’t think he was going to break his own promise so soon...

That night when Akaashi arrived home, he unblocked Oikawa’s number and added him to his contacts once again. 

Akaashi’s heart ached.

###### 

To be continued in the next chapter...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! I hope you're doing well and staying safe!! 
> 
> My fav line from this chapter: "Maybe it wasn't _Confidence_ as such...but more so _comfortableness_
> 
> Idk why?! I came up with this line last minute and was just overcome with warmth?! lmao... anyways kudos and comments are much appreciated!!! 
> 
> until next time - Bon 💜


	13. Grounded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Pops up after _three_ whole months of nothing*
> 
> H-hi (⊙_⊙;) 
> 
> that being said, this is the longest chapter so far!! i hope i haven't disapointed after all this time,, and i will explain myself in end of notes!!!
> 
> enjoy ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

_How long will I say yes over my conscience?  
Truth is I'm wasted before I take it all in  
How long will I blame it all on past life tragedy?  
There's no remedy_

_No more wide eyes  
I can't pretend  
No, I can't pretend  
No morning cries  
It's not the end  
No, It's not the end_

_~ Wide Eyed, Billy Lockett_

###### 

Ever since he had added Oikawa’s phone number back onto his contacts list, Akaashi knew that he probably would never make anything useful out of it. It also wasn’t as if they were going to become best buds all of a sudden, either - far from it. 

It had only been one night since the BBQ, and his thoughts had been consuming him more than ever. More than they _usually_ would. 

For the past two weeks he had felt confident. He felt like his old self again before all of the nightmares and fears and ghosts from the past came to haunt him. Instead, he found himself not caring. 

_Not caring_ about what anyone else would think of him. He was proud of who he was and who he had become and how much he had grown and how strong he could be. 

He had felt _comfortable_ again. 

Something he had never thought was possible for years. 

Akaashi Keiji who had ever so carefully, layer after layer, built a wall around himself over the years that could _never_ be knocked down. 

He closed his eyes, smothering his head into his pillow as he tried to dissipate his thoughts...

_Bright smiles and golden green flecked eyes.  
“I’m Bokuto Koutarou! Nice to meet you Akashi Keiji!”_

_An infectious smile he didn’t know he could muster._

A little bit of the wall crumbled off. 

_Long, stolen glances, lost to the folds of time as the car whirred past the city lights, neon billboards reflecting in each other's eyes at midnight._

_One hand apart, a space between them so warm, but distance. A not quite there yet moment shared in the back of car seats._

_“Akaashi, you have really pretty eyes.”_

Little by little, crumbles off the wall came tumbling down. 

_Sleepy smiles, adrenaline in the rain, tickle fights._

_Bokuto Koutarou staring at him like that. Like he held the whole world in his eyes._

_Akaashi was afraid of that look, yet he felt himself climb up the wall out of curiosity._

_What was on the other side?_

Brick by brick, falling down. 

_Hands wrapped tightly, thrown around waists, sobs wracking through the body he was holding, city cars rolling by underneath, not knowing._

_Grounded._

_“Like how I see you.”_

The wall, being climbed, crumbling, edging little by little away. Falling down, broken bit by bit. 

_Oikawa Tooru on a hot spring day, green grass and sparkling streams._

_A kind, sympathetic yet guilt ridden look._

_Tears welling in eyes._

_“It’s because of **one** person.”_

A wall crashing down. Akaashi, falling down. Rubble everywhere around him.

“Arghhhh!” Akaashi groaned in his pillow, unable to fall back asleep in order to expel his thoughts. 

It had all come crashing down. 

Everything Akaashi had so carefully fabricated since the age of twelve. Everything he had built. Everything he had gotten good at; hidden feelings, unopened bottles. 

Who did Oikawa think he was? Just because he had his own epiphany all of a sudden, didn’t mean that he could come sauntering back into Akaashi’s own life, and just with a few words and one look, tear everything down. 

Just like that. 

He was perfectly happy living the way he was. 

Even if that meant never being able to express his true feelings to the one he loved, and be who he really was…

_Shut up Keiji, stop pretending._

_You’ve already pretended for your whole life, and look where that got you.  
You’ve already done enough damage, you can’t go back on it now. You practically already admitted it to him…_

_You know how you’ve felt for a long time…_

When Akaashi had first woken up this morning, it was to the sound of his phone notifs blowing up, having forgotten the reason why they were all at the BBQ in the first place. 

Vogue had dropped at midnight. 

Akaashi was already asleep by 10:30pm once Bokuto had dropped him off outside his apartment. 

He had taken one look at all the media speculation about Kuroo and Bokuto and all the other models and companies that it wasn’t until he saw an account with a screenshot of his and Kenma’s cover, that he had got what he wanted. 

Not only was there the ongoing speculation about Kuroo and Bokuto always being seen or modeling together, but suddenly world famous Kodzuken and this nobody assistant were modeling together. 

Of course Akaashi knew this was going to cause uproar. 

Deep down, he had wanted this so Bokuto would see it and possibly even get jealous. 

Just like he had when he had first seen Bokuto and Kuroo modeling together, however petty that may seem.

_But why would he? Keiji, Bokuto thinks you're straight, remember?_

_He doesn't feel the same way._

Akaashi's thought's cut off his mind wandering elsewhere, figuring the plan he had wanted the most, in fact, did not mean anything if Bokuto felt nothing towards him. 

"Arghh!!" Akaashi shouted, launching his phone at the wall opposite, his voice echoing off his bedroom walls. 

Akaashi collapsed down onto his bed, lying on his back as he stared up at the ceiling. 

As he turned on his side to face his alarm clock, he felt hot tears spill down his cheeks that he had tried so desperately to hold in during his conversation with Oikawa yesterday. 

Akaashi was not an angry person. 

He was never the type of person to lash out. But this time however, felt like an exception. 

All his life he had made a promise he wouldn't break. 

A promise he made to his childhood best friend. 

A promise to his parents. 

A promise to _himself…_

Akaashi choked on his sobs, letting the teardrops roll down his face more freely. 

Yet Oikawa had sauntered along and broken the wall he had so carefully built around himself just by saying a few words. 

He kept repeating it in his head, over and over again; _why why why—_

…

_“It's **One** person"_

_Bokuto Koutarou._

And Oikawa had somehow managed to not only know everything Akaashi had so desperately been trying to hide, all his secrets and lies, but also _who_ it was he was pushing his feelings away from. 

Had he really been that obvious? 

After thirty or so more minutes, Akaashi finally had calmed himself down enough to roll out of bed. 

He had an awards ceremony to attend and look forward to, which was going to be televised live. 

_That would be something itself…_ he mused. 

Akaasi found his mind wandering more as he hopped into the steaming shower for comfort. 

Maybe it wasn’t so bad...He always knew who he truly was, and he knew it wasn’t a bad thing. Not at all.

He had been so hypocritical this whole entire time. 

_What will the others think of me…?_

Kuroo and Kenma seemed to be doing well...hell everyone around him was happy and couldn’t care less what other people thought. It is normal to like the same gender. There’s not a single damn thing wrong with it. 

_So why couldn’t he accept it himself?_

He smiled as the hot water washed over him, making his wavy hair curl even more into wisps on his forehead. He thought of the last two all company photoshoots. He thought about the way Lev and Yaku bicker but smile softly when the other isn't looking. He thought about Osamu and Suna slow dancing, now to be husbands. He thought about how happy Daichi and Suga were being the top models of Karasuno. 

He thought about how lucky Yachi got to be; able to be fired and meet the love of her life at her new job. He thought about how Kuroo and Kenma loved each other so much, and were trying so hard to work through it. 

_What’s stopping me?_

_Why are you so afraid?_

...

_“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”_

_“How can you call yourself normal?”_

Akaashi pushed it all aside, shutting the shower off with it. 

He stepped out, the fluffy cotton of the towel warm. 

He stood there, staring at the fogged up reflection of himself in the mirror. His hands clenched on either side of the sink from where all his weight was leaning on it, pressed forward. 

Akaashi looked himself in his eyes. 

_I’ve accepted it in my mind, so now I can work on accepting it fully._

For the person loves most.

He would try his best. 

_If only he knew what that would have lead to in a week's time…_

###### 

_One week later…_

Bokuto-san

> Akaashiiii i’m outside waiting for u,,, hurry up!!! 

Akaashi laughed as he read the message from Bokuto. He hurried to grab his blazer and made sure he had his keys in his pocket, and with that, made his way downstairs. 

As the doors shut behind him, Akaashi did a double take when he saw Bokuto leaning against his transport, waiting for him. 

The owl-like man was wearing white slacks with a matching blazer, with a black button up and a yellow tie with it, that Akaashi thought almost looked golden, matching his eyes. Bokuto’s hair wasn’t it’s usual spiked up style either, instead was slicked back, causing stray hairs to fall on his forehead. 

Akaashi didn’t move. He just stood there blushing, eyes admiring Bokuto.  
A few more seconds passed before Akaashi realised he still hadn't gotten in the car, and felt his cheeks warm further. 

He finally hopped into the car that the model had chivalrously held open for him, and followed after his assistant, the door slamming shut. 

When Akaashi turned to meet Bokuto’s face after the car started up, he realised Bokuto had also been blushing. 

Akaashi was wearing a teal blazer and slacks, along with a black button up and matching teal tie. His hair was also a little more tamed than it’s usual wavy mess, instead slicked back just like Bokuto’s, curls drooping on his forehead. 

“Akaashi...you look _really_ good,” Bokuto breathed.

Akaashi smiled, “You don’t look too bad yourself, Bokuto-san.” 

Akaashi’s eyes went wide at what he had just said, Bokuto’s mouth gaping open in response. Both of them coughed and whipped their heads around to face out the windows, both pairs of cheeks a furious red.

###### 

After an hour's car journey, the transport finally pulled up into the car park of where the live TV awards were being held. 

Bokuto and Akaashi walked out of the car park and headed towards the building's entrance. The first thing Akaashi noticed as he followed Bokuto around the corner to go inside the hall, were all the cameras and flashing lights, and the noises of a thousand camera shutters going off a million times per minute. 

He hadn’t even walked the red carpet yet and already felt blinded.

Not only that but all of the people...crowds upon crowds were littering the pavements and streets, all roped off from the red carpet in the middle with gates holding back the public on either side. 

Celebrities from all over Japan were pulling up in limousines, fancy party buses or cars that cost more than Akaashi’s paycheck a year.

And Akaashi got paid damn good. 

Akaashi gulped, clearly not ready for what he was about to go through. He himself may not be famous like all the others here, but Bokuto reassured him that there were others here who bought as a plus one.

Others here that weren't worldwide known, or Japan famous, but people that were like him. Just an assistant or producer or event organisers bought along as a plus one by one of their stupidly famous friends or partners or families. 

Akaashi thought back to what Bokuto had said when he had first voiced his concerns the night before. It didn’t calm him completely, but it soothed his nerves a little more. 

Akaashi guped nonetheless. 

Bokuto stopped walking, they still weren't in line of view from all the public, all their attention on the celebrities walking the red carpet and pulling up on the curbs. 

Good job Bokuto’s transport had dropped them off at the back.

Akaashi almost walked into Bokuto, wondering why he had stopped all of a sudden. 

Worried golden eyes peered round at him, Akaashi trying to hold eye contact the best he could. 

“Are you okay, Akaashi?” Bokuto murmured quietly.

Akaashi could only just about hear him over all the racket in the background, but was thankful he had. 

Trust Bokuto to know immediately what was up with him. 

Akaashi smiled and nodded, “I’m okay, just a little nervous. Thank you Bokuto-san.”

The top model nodded in response, a soft smile painting his face; “I’m going to be right by your side the whole time, okay Akaashi?” 

The assistant swallowed again, his throat just a little too dry, but his nerves a little more calmer than before. 

By the time they got to the front of the red carpet, Bokuto never once leaving his side as they were about to walk down it, Kenma sidled up to the side of him, making him jump. 

Akaashi blinked, wondering when Kenma had turned up and he hadn’t noticed. He looked to the other side of Bokuto, and found Kuroo already cracking jokes with him. 

“It’s okay to be nervous, you get used to it after a while,” Kenma shrugged. “If it helps, keep your eyes straight ahead on the entrance, and don’t stop for the interviewers questions.”

Akaashi smiled, “wasn’t planning on it.”

And by the time Kenma smiled back, all four of them made their way down the red carpet. Kenma and Akaashi made it inside of the building first, having to wait for Kuroo and Bokuto who got roped into answering questions and signing autographs. 

Ten minutes later, and all four of them were seated at a round table in an enormous dimly lit hall. Diamond chandeliers littered the roof, shining down below on the thousands of tables and celebrities seated underneath. 

The public who were rich or won tickets on radio stations were seated up in the auditorium that curved around the room, looking down at the stage and all the idols. Singers, models, actors and actresses from all over Japan were here. To be live on TV. 

And Akaashi was here too. 

_What a memory this will be,_ he thought. 

Soon enough, there were more and more people turning up that Akaashi knew personally. Atsumu and Sakusa had shown up together, even taking a seat at their table along with Kageyama and Hinata. 

Not only that, but Oikawa and Iwaizumi had also turned up together, and joined Aoba Johsai who were sitting on the next table across from their own. 

Akaashi could already feel Oikawa’s unrelenting gaze on him, especially since Akaashi hadn’t even bothered to reach out to Oikawa since the BBQ. 

Fifteen more minutes later, all the models Akaashi had met from the company photoshoots had turned up, seated all around either side of where he was situated. 

Even to be seated in the middle of people he knew calmed his nerves more so. It still didn’t stop the bouncing of his leg under the table. 

Akaashi jumped, a warm touch spreading across his knee. 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto whispered, “everything is going to be okay, I promise. If you need a breath of fresh air, i’ll come with you, okay?” Bokuto smiled that bright, sunny smile of his that blinded Akaashi. 

As Akaashi went to nod, the lights on the stage suddenly dimmed, and two TV hosts walked out in their thousands of yen suit and dress. 

“Welcome to the 50th anniversary of All Japan’s award ceremony!” The tall slender woman on stage chirped. 

“We have many awards to present tonight, along with some amazing performances from dancers and singers that could be here tonight,” the man in the tuxedo finished off.

###### 

It had already been an hour as another round of applause erupted in the hall.  
Akaashi’s nerves had calmed down significantly since Bokuto had reassured him for the third time of the night, his hand never once leaving it’s place on his knee. 

He was grateful for the mostly dark room and silk cloth hanging over the table. 

“Bokuto-san, I just had a thought but wouldn’t your mother be here tonight, as well?” 

Bokuto paused to put his champagne glass back onto the table. Although he still hadn’t spoken to her properly since he came out to her, from what his father had told him, he knew that she was trying. 

No matter how much Bokuto loved her, it still angered him to no end. 

_Maybe one day,_ that little hopeful voice told him every time he let his mind wander back to it. 

“She’s actually supposed to have her performance after the modeling awards are presented, just before the break,” Bokuto informed his assistant. 

“Ah, well if you want to use the break after for some fresh air, i’ll happily come with you,” Akaashi whispered back. 

Bokuto laughed, “Thank you Kaashi.”

When Bokuto turned his attention back to the stage, Akaashi reached out to grab his own bottle of water. Looking up, he saw both Kuroo and Kenma smirk knowingly at him, despite Akaashi not knowing why they were looking at him like that. 

Akaashi swallowed down his water, and narrowed his eyebrows at them both as he screwed the lid back on. 

They shrugged and turned back to the presenters who had just appeared on stage again, ready to host the next set of awards. 

_They always seem to do that,_ Akaashi thought obliviously. 

The tall woman in the red sequin dress spoke out again; “And for the next set of awards, and the most anticipated by the audience and everyone here, are the Modeling awards." 

The other presenter with her finished off again; “For these awards, the categories are,” and moved slightly from the centre of the stage as the large screen behind them lit up, the categories coming up in animation, which were what families at home across Japan were seeing on their laptop and TV screens right now. 

The man and woman walked back to the centre, and each took the trophy and envelope from the podium. 

“For each award category, there will be two winners. First up is the breakout star of the year model award…” The man dragged it out, the women carefully tearing open the envelope. 

After ten more seconds, the whole room suspended in anticipation, the award got announced, the women and man saying it out loud in sync. 

“Tobio Kageyama and Hinata Shoyo from Karasuno!!” 

The hall erupted into cheers, and Akaashi’s face lit up with a smile, himself and everyone around him standing up to applaud and cheer as Hinata and Kageyama walked up onto stage to accept the award. 

Suga and Daichi seemed to be making the most noise, proud of their two kouhai who were expected to take after them as the next top models once they retired. 

They all seated again, and the next award was announced, this time for social media model. 

“Kozume Kenma and Oikawa Tooru!!”

Kenma looked surprised to say the least, and in a split moment, Akaashi saw the  
nervousness of about to walk up stage in front of millions of viewers wash over him. 

What people failed to notice which Akaashi did not, was the way Kuroo squeezed his hand reassuringly. 

And that was how the next hour went. 

Comeback of the year was won by Konoha and Sugawara. 

Streetwear style of the year was won by Tanaka and Iwaizumi. 

Celebrity model was won by Semi Eita and Komi.

And now for the last two awards, the two awards that Bokuto said every model wanted to take home with them tonight…  
The best company and Best model of the year. 

Sure every company had a top model, but to receive model of the year was something else entirely. Because that meant that not only did people from Japan recognise you, but worldwide you were recognised. 

The tension in the room seemed to be strung thinner than ever, and Akaashi was just about to feel it snap. 

“And the Best model company of the year goes too….

Nekoma!!” 

And if Akaashi hadn’t heard the loudest whoops and applauds throughout the hall already, well, he had now. 

Everyone shot up from their chairs, Kuroo standing shakily from his seat. 

He had really not been expecting that. 

Bokuto pulled him into a bear hug and clapped him on his back, Kenma and Akaashi standing there smiling until Bokuto let go of him so he and the rest of Nekoma could go up and receive their award on stage. 

Kuroo stood in the centre, the rest of Nekoma’s models, even Lev and Yaku, surrounding him. 

He accepted the award with shaking hands. 

“T-thank you everyone so much, uh,” Kuroo chuckled into the mic as Shibayama and Inouka laughed. “As you can probably tell, I wasn't expecting to win anything tonight, let alone company of the year award, so i’m a little unprepared.”

“A little is an understatement,” Yaku retorted with a snort, the audience and the viewers at home laughing. 

“Oh Shush! To be honest I don’t think any of us were expecting this,” Kuroo looked either side of himself to see everyone shaking their heads. 

“Well at least we all look good, we all made a good decision to wear red of some sort,” Yamamoto joked, to which the audience laughed, agreeing. 

“Yeah, Well I suppose there’s that,” Kuroo agreed. “And there’s also one last thing I wanted to say…”

Kuroo took a deep breath, “I just wanted to say thank you to Kenma, too. He’s gonna punch me when I get back down there for putting all the attention on him but, honestly without him, I wouldn't have won this award today. We all wouldn’t have. Despite not being in the company fully, he pushes every single one of us to do our best, and also drops by just to see how everyone is doing and make them laugh.”

“I love my job but I get my motivation from Kenma, as you can see,” his hands waved in the air around him at everyone humming and agreeing, “Everyone agrees.”

“Sooooo,” Kuroo drawed out, 

“Thank you everyone!!” All of Nekoma bowed and shouted.

“And also Kenma!” Kai shouted as they walked down the stairs and the audience cheered once again. 

As they sat down at their tables, Kuroo sighed. 

Kenma was looking at him with the slightest hint of red fanning his cheeks. 

“Never do that again Kuro.” 

This caused everyone at their table to laugh. “Okay okay shhh, the next award is the biggest of them all,” Atsumu hushed them.

“The model of the year award goes tooo…

“Bokuto Koutarou!!” 

And if Akaashi thought the last applause was the loudest, he was wrong. 

Bokuto spat out his drink he was sipping. 

Everyone stood up, Akaashi nearly giving himself whiplash, but proud to be the first one who stood up, not at all minding the water now sprayed over his shirt. 

“Bo!! Get the hell up! Kuroo berated him. 

Slowly, Bokuto stood up, and only just realised what he had won. 

He looked at Akaashi, everyone around him still standing, clapping and cheering. 

It was deafening. 

“Wait, Kaashi, did I just win the model of the year award?” He said unbelievably. 

“Yes Bokuto-san, yes you did,” Akaashi smiled. 

“No way,” Bokuto whispered. 

Suddenly, Akaashi’s feet were lifted from the ground. 

Bokuto hollered as he spun Akaashi round in an embrace, then gently lowered him back to the ground and jogged up to the front.

It was only after Bokuto got up onto the stage that he had realised the cameras had been on him the whole time. 

Everyone around them just saw that. 

Everyone at home just saw that. 

His _parents_ could have seen that. 

_Not good._

All of Akaashi’s nerves from earlier hit him in a wave again. 

He swallowed and sat back down in his chair with shaky legs, wanting to direct all of his attention onto Bokuto's speech. 

Oikawa’s gaze suddenly felt unrelenting. He could feel it burning into the side of his head. 

But still, he shook it off, wanting to give Bokuto his full attention. 

“Thank you all so much for voting me!! Just like Nekoma, you can see how I was not expecting this. But just like I do with everything else in my life, I’m going to wing it.” 

The audience chuckled at the owl-like man’s antics. So did Akaashi. 

“I really appreciate this, seriously. This year has been...well...tough. The last ten years have been actually,” he chuckled lightheartedly. “But I know I have all my amazing friends around me, supporting me. And I have also met some really great people too, just recently in fact, from the vogue all companies shoot.”

He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. 

“And there is also a certain someone that I met a few months ago. If it wasn’t for my friend Iwaizumi, who you may or may not know,” Bokuto added cheekily, knowing full well they did, to which they laughed, “I would have never met this person. And I'm so grateful that I did.” 

“To be honest, I don’t know where I would be without him.”

Akaashi’s heart rate began to pick up, his knee bouncing up and down erratically. 

_Please stop where you’re going with this Bokuto-san._

“I honest to god don’t know where I would be without him by my side this year. Although we have only known each other for a few months, I can genuinely say he is one of my closest, bestest friends.”

Bokuto’s face ever so slightly pinched at that, almost as if he didn’t like giving Akaashi that specific title. 

“He inspires me, motivates me, makes me laugh, and most importantly, is always by my side when I need him most.”

Akaashi’s heart rate soared, and despite the butterflies in his chest and the flush on his cheeks, he felt sick to his stomach. 

“So thank you, Akaashi,” Bokuto finished off, with the softest smile he had ever seen. 

The crowd roared and burst from their seats, this time even the public up in the auditorium were raised on their feet, whooping and hollering and cheering at Bokuto's speech. 

But Akaashi heard none of that. 

He didn't even stand up to applaud Bokuto as he bowed and went to make his way down stage. 

All Akaashi could hear was white noise.

He slowly rose to his feet, nearly tripping on his leg chair and bumped into the table, everything in his vision had become blurred, slightly out of focus. His ears were ringing, almost as if he had just experienced an explosion. 

His whole entire being felt like led, his weight heavy and legs weighing him down as he staggered away from the table. 

Everything seemed to be in slow motion. His movements, his steps, the way his arms seemed to swing as he tried to stop himself from falling into random celebrities. 

The only thing on his mind; _Keiji, get out, get out, get out, get out of here right now._

Luckily as he made his way out of the hall the quickest he could, no one else other than Kuroo and Kenma had seemed to notice the way he was acting. 

Akaashi didn't know what he would do if the camera picked up what he looked like as he dragged himself through the sea of celebrities. 

He was glad all their attention was on Bokuto. 

Except that's what he had thought. 

Akaashi finally burst through the fire exit at the back of the hall, into the well lit, red and golden hallways. 

He jogged down the hallway for a few more seconds until he found the nearest common room. As soon as he saw it, he slammed the door shut behind him and leant against it, bending over and taking heaving gasps of cold air. 

It had been way too stuffy back in there, with all the thousands upon thousands of people. 

He was glad he was finally alone, able to break free. 

Then came the sudden _'knock knock'_ against the door.

Akaashi stopped his heaving breaths, trying to stay as silent as possible. 

He couldn't let anyone see him like this. Especially not—

"Akaashi, I know you're in there, please open up! It's me, Bokuto!" 

Akaashi wanted to scream. 

Despite hearing only Bokuto's muffled shout, he could hear other shuffles on the carpet. 

He already knew it was Kenma and Kuroo. 

"Go away," Akaashi finally mustered, albeit weakly. 

"Akaashi, I'm not going to go away until you open up this door, and I know you're okay." 

Then a smaller, but still worried voice came through from the otherside. 

"Akaashi, please open up. All three of us just want to make sure you're okay."

Akaashi's eyes screwed shut, his breathing picking up its momentum again just like it had back when Bokuto had given his speech. 

He wasn't going to act as if he didn't know why this was happening. 

"Akaashi, we don't mean to disrespect your privacy, but we're your best friends, so please, and for Bo's own sanity, let us make sure you're alright," a deeper, more velvety voice murmured. 

Akaashi, as much as his suddenly drained body would let him, reached behind himself to open the door. 

As soon as he had, all three of them came rushing in. 

Luckily there were multiple armchairs and sofas spread across the room, because otherwise, Akaashi might have fallen onto the floor if the sofa hadn't been behind him. 

"Woah woah woah!!" Bokuto ran forward, just enough to carefully catch Akaashi before he slumped completely on the foot rest in the middle of the room, lowering him down properly. 

He sat next to his assistant, Akaashi resting his head on Bokuto's shoulder for comfort, eyes closed and trying his best to get his breathing back to normal. 

It was only until he had realised just whose head he was leaning on that he remembered why he was still breathing so erratically. 

Akaashi’s eyes blew wide open. 

His breathing that was starting to get back to normal, now became _worse._

He felt his own arms push away from Bokuto, who was holding him, _comforting him,_ up until now. 

Akaashi didn’t even need to look at Bokuto’s face to see the pure hurt on it. 

He didn’t even need to look up to see Kuroo and Kenma’s looks of shock. 

“A-Akaashi?” Bokuto let out. 

“B-Bo I think he’s hyperventilating.”

“Obviously I know that Kuroo!” 

“K-Kenma s-shouldn’t you know what to do?!”

“I’m not sure he wants people near at the moment, and if he does i'm certain it won’t be me Kuro,” Kenma said with panic in his voice. 

Akaashi was now facing away from them all, heaving as he hugged his knees drawn up to his chest tightly. 

Kuroo had begun pacing around the room, not knowing what to do. He had gone through this a few times before with Kenma but somehow, just somehow, that seemed different. 

Kenma ran out of the room to get water or at least something that would try and help his best friend. 

Bokuto however, was frozen in shock. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

The person who he loved _so_ much was right there in front of him, scared, panicked, and hardly able to _breathe_ and all Bokuto could do was just stand there and _watch._

Helpless. 

Bokuto Koutarou felt absolutely helpless as all he could do was stand here and watch. 

Kuroo was not helping either. He was still pacing back and forth with his hands pulling his hair. Bokuto knows how bad it must feel to not know what to do, especially when they seemed like they wanted everyone to go away. 

_Akaashi pushed him away._

_No,_ Bokuto thought to himself. _I need to do something to help Akaashi. Think koutarou, think._

_Come on come on, you've known him for this long now and you still don’t know how to help the person you care about so much._

_What would Akaashi do if it were me in this situation?_

And as Bokuto finally darted over in front of where Akaashi was curled up on the seat, he thought to himself what an idiot he had been. 

He fell to his knees, and looked up at Akaashi. 

He ever so carefully reached out to untangle Akaashi’s arms from around his legs, which made the assistant look at him in fear. 

“Hey hey ‘Kaashi. It’s just me okay? Nothing bad is going to happen to you, I'm right here,” Bokuto reassured him best he could. 

As he slowly felt Akaashi give way and relax ever so slightly, Bokuto held Akaashi’s hands in his own. 

Although Bokuto had no idea what or how or even who made Akaashi get like this, he would try his best to try and solve it. 

“It’s just me and Kuroo okay? The door is shut, and no one can see you okay? No one can see _us._ ” 

At that, Akaashi’s sobs ripped out from him. Bokuto pulled Akaashi down onto the floor where he was sat in front of him, and held him tightly as humanly possible. 

As Bokuto had one arm wrapped around Akaashi pulling him close, the other held a vice-like grip on his hand that was caught in between the both of their chests. 

_Grounded._

_Akaashi needs to be grounded._

And Bokuto felt like the biggest idiot in the world that he hadn’t realised sooner. 

After ten more minutes of letting Akaashi’s sobs die down, they began to hear people shuffling around outside, signaling Aika’s performance must have been over and it was now break. 

During that time, Kenma had come back with a glass of water which Akaashi was now sipping on, and Kuroo had sat down next to Kenma on the other side of the waiting room, opposite the top model and assistant. 

Since then, Bokuto had also let go of Akaashi, but still kept close to his side. 

No one had spoken or broken the silence yet. 

Not that Akaashi wanted them to anyway…

It was then that a light _knock_ resounded throughout the room. 

Akaashi lifted his head up quickly, wondering who it could be when this room was occupied and there were literally a hundred more rooms just down this one corridor to go to.

As Kuroo got up to open the door and tell them to go away, a loud whine came from the otherside. 

“But Iwa-channnnn! I just want to make sure Aka-chan is okay!” 

Akaashi groaned while the others didn’t know whether or not to let him in. 

How on earth did he know where they were?! 

“Um Akaashi, should I let him in or?” Kuroo asked, eyebrows raised. 

“I don’t think he will go away even if you were to say no,” Akaashi croaked out. 

Sighing, Kuroo turned the door handle, to which Iwaizumi and Oikawa both walked in. 

“Oikawa,” Bokuto started, “Please shut the d—” 

“No need,” Oikawa cut him off.

“What do you mean?” Asked Kenma. “We are in here with the door shut for a reason, so please respect Akaa—”

“I don’t mean to be rude Ken-chan, or to any of you, but I would like to just have a little moment with Akaashi to myself if that’s okay,” Oikawa smiled at the end of it. 

And Akaashi could tell that it was’nt one of those usual smirky, sarcastic or ‘im better than you’ smiles. What made Akaashi know he should agree to Oikawa’s own wish, was because he could tell that smile was so genuine. 

Akaashi knew that Oikawa knew. 

Oikawa knew that Akaashi knew that he knew. 

It was only time until they spoke properly again since the BBQ. 

It was almost as if their conversation had never happened that day. 

And just because Oikawa had seen the way Akaashi had been acting all day, and obviously followed Bokuto and the others to where he was, he knew that he would have to tell him the truth. 

In a way, if Akaashi had to tell anyone, the universe screwed him over for this one. But then again, he also thought it made sense that it was Oikawa Tooru and no one else. 

He really was perceptive. 

“Fine,” Bokuto said not impolitely. “But if you hurt Akaashi, I swear to god—” 

“It’s okay Bo, he genuinely wants to just talk to Akaashi, give him some space, come on,” Kuroo reassured him and patted him on the back as Kenma followed after him. 

Before Bokuto fully left, he stopped and turned just at the doorway, where Iwaizumi was waiting to leave with the owl-like man. 

“I’ll wait for you in the car park okay? I’ll take you home Akaashi.”

Akaashi somewhat smiled the best he could, feeling tears well up again at how thoughtful Bokuto was. 

Yet again. 

“Thank you.” 

And with that, Bokuto left with a soft click of the door shutting after him. 

Which meant that all who were left in the room now was Oikawa and Akaashi. 

Oikawa took the seat next to Akaashi where Bokuto had been sitting, but this time with more space in between. 

Akaashi fidgeted nervously. 

A beat of silence. 

And then…

“Aka-chan, you’re really not okay, are you?” he said softly. 

“No,” Akaashi’s voice broke. 

Akaashi turned so he was looking at oikawa; 

“I’m really not.”

Next thing Akaashi knew, even before the tears had time to spill from the assistants eyes, Oikawa was hugging Akaashi close. 

“Shhhhh shhhh, it’s going to be okay Akaashi, I promise you that.” 

As Akaashi sniffed, he pulled away from the model to look into his eyes. 

“I suppose it’s time I have to tell someone the truth,” he chuckled as he let even more tears spill. 

Oikawa already knew what was coming. It was only last week he already had Akaashi figured out to a point. 

Now it was just Akaashi’s turn to confirm it all himself. 

Akaashi took a deep breath and paused. 

He was scared. 

So so _scared._

_You can do this Keiji._

“Oikawa-san, I know you won’t but _please,_ I beg of you, do not tell _anyone_ what I am about to tell you.” 

Oikawa didn’t once break his line of sight; “Of course not Akaashi. I understand,” and at that he smiled ever so bittersweetly. 

_Of course he would,_ Akaashi reminded himself, thinking back to the sleepover round Kenma’s where Kuroo had explained Oikawa’s situation that only the public didn’t know about yet. 

Another deep breath. 

“I know you have pretty much got it right. That’s why I ran away from you at the BBQ last week. Well truth is... you are right. Pretty much spot on, actually,” Akaashi chuckled bitterly. 

Oikawa was listening intently, eyes full of pity and understanding. 

Akaashi looked back into his eyes, hands that were holding the glass cup shaking. 

… 

“I’m in love with Bokuto.” 

OIkawa nodded. That’s all he could do, especially since he had already known. The only reason why he was left speechless was because of how brave and straight forward Akaashi was being about it all to him. 

“Truth is, i’ve known that im gay for a long time. It wasn’t that I met Bokuto and found out; I’ve always known. And I had to learn how to accept that part of myself since a very young age. It wasn’t until I was twelve that I shut myself off. I ended up pushing that part of myself down...almost as if I had convinced myself that who I was wasn’t real.” 

He looked at Oikawa for reassurance to keep going, to which Oikawa nodded. 

“The main reason that I have trouble accepting myself, not just within my mind, but admitting it, accepting it _out loud,_ was because that would mean I would have disappointed everyone around me.” 

Akaashi began getting choked up again, and Oikawa decided to gently set the cup he was holding aside and take one of his hands to gently squeeze it. 

“Because somehow, if I admitted it out loud, that would mean that I would have fully accepted who I was as a whole. And because that meant disappointing my parents, my family, _everyone around me,_ that meant that I couldn’t. Not if I had to live my everyday life knowing I was a burden to my family and friends.”

“So that one day when I was twelve, I made a promise to myself. A promise ingrained so deeply into me that if I broke it, I don’t know what I would do.” 

“So I shut that part of myself out. It was hard when I had to live under the same roof as my parents, so when I finally turned eighteen and was able to move out and go to college and get a job, I found it easier.”

“Of course I still had to lie to cover my tracks my whole life, with the monthly calls from my mother and father. And it hurt. But it made things easier not living underneath the same roof as them and even the same city,” he paused, taking a breath after having admitted so much out loud in _years._

Finding strength, he carried on to finish his story he had so desperately wanted to tell someone. 

“Soon enough my panic attacks became worse. I went to the doctors and already knew before the diagnosis came back that I suffered with crippling anxiety. But I made it work. Some days were worse than others, but I got through them, and they gradually, slowly, started to become less and less frequent.” 

…

“And then I met Bokuto.”

Oikawa smiled, knowing that Akaashi didn’t regret that one bit. 

“Then I met Bokuto and it all came crashing down. I was scared, frightened, _terrified._ It wasn’t because of anyone here or in Aoba Johsai or my english classes or the library and even Fukurodani, not even the media scares me that much if I know I can accept it fully.”

“It’s all because of my parents. All because of that one day when I was twelve...and now I’m more scared than _ever,”_ Akaashi said as he looked from the floor into Oikawa’s eyes. 

“Because I know that these feelings I have for Bokuto, are _not_ going to go away. And I have tried. Believe me I have tried _so_ hard but I can’t push away my feelings this time round."

"Not when I love Bokuto-san so much that it _hurts.”_

And if Oikawa said he didn’t feel his own tears spill down his cheeks, he would be lying. 

Akaashi finished his story and Oikawa, for the first time in his life, didn’t know what to say. 

He didn’t know what to say because Oikawa had been through it himself with Iwaizumi. With how his father had high expectations of him and if it got out about his sexuality, it could possibly cause an uproar. Even though most of the fans supported it, with how high up his dad was in the business, and how he wanted Oikawa to take over one day, they just couldn’t afford to risk it. 

But sitting here, listening to Akaashi open up, and talk about how during these past few weeks he has felt himself letting who he really is show, something he had always known, especially trying his hardest for the person he loves, made him have hope for himself and Iwaizumi one day. 

Oikawa wiped his tears with his sleeve quickly and swallowed down the lump in his throat. 

"So what happens now?" 

Akaashi sighed, looking up to the ceiling, eyes focused on the chandelier. 

He smiled ever so slightly: "Well I've told one person the truth now. I'm sure I can find it in myself to tell him one day, however long that may be." 

He looked at Oikawa; "I'm going to try my hardest to accept myself. Even if Bokuto-san doesn't love me back, I still think it'll be worth something for me after all these years." 

"and you should try it too," he smiled at Oikawa knowingly, to which Seijoh's top model laughed. 

"Of course Aka-chan. You're right, even if it takes a while, we deserve to be happy. Plus, we are both kind of half way there," Oikawa winked. 

Akaashi's face lit up in flames, and for the first time for both of them that night, they burst into laughter. 

That was a first. 

To think that Oikawa Tooru and Akaashi Keiji would be laughing their heads off in a room together. 

"I better not keep Bokuto-san waiting," said Akaashi after the laughter had died down. 

"Ah, I better not keep Iwa-chan waiting either."

As they both got up shakily, but somewhat more relieved than they had first been when they walked into the building tonight, Akaashi paused just before he opened the door. 

"Oikawa-San, thank you so much. I know I have been rather…difficult, but thank you for everything." 

Oikawa smiled, "Akaashi there's no need to thank me, I shouldn't have been rude to my assistant in the first place," he paused for a few seconds, "after all, that's what friends are for." 

Akaashi smiled and ducked his head, "yeah, I suppose you're right." 

As they walked out of the door to shut it, Oikawa was back to his usual self. 

"Of course I'm always right Aka-chan, who'd you take me for?!" 

Akaashi chuckled whilst shaking his head; "You're insufferable." 

"Hey there you guys are! Bo was getting really impatient so I offered to come check on you guys for him," Kuroo sighed rubbing his forehead. 

Akaashi couldn't blame him. He had left them worried for twenty five minutes, waiting to take Akaashi home after the whole of tonight's events. 

"Thank you Kuroo-san, I'm coming now." 

He waved Oikawa goodbye, to which the top model wished to see them again soon. 

By the time Akaashi had arrived back into the car park, Bokuto was already leaning against the transport. 

But instead of the same grin he had plastered on his face the morning before, he was now staring dead at the ground, eyes unfocused. 

"Hey Bokuto, they're back," Kenma nudged him. 

Bokuto's head shot up, leaving Akaashi to think _cute._

"Akaashi, we were so worried! Are you feeling better? Is everything okay? What happened between you two?" 

Kuroo lightly shoved Bokuto; "woah woah Bo, calm down, he doesn't need you bombarding him with questions, let the guy calm down a bit himself first." 

Bokuto murmured an apology, to which Akaashi laughed off. 

They all looked at him, surprised to see him in such a good mood after everything he had just been through within the last hour and half. 

"Surprisingly, Oikawa-san helped me out a lot. Turns out there was a lot I needed to get off my chest." 

This time, Kenma took lead of the conversation.

"We're glad to hear it. Please, if you ever need anything, you know every single one of us are here, okay?" 

Akaashi nodded, his heart warming; he really was grateful for his friends. 

"Of course, I'm sorry I acted like that. I couldn't imagine how I must have made you guys feel." 

Bokuto stepped forward, making Akaashi look up at him, straight into his golden eyes. 

They were worried. 

Not just any type of worried, but _heartbroken._

Akaashi's heart fluttered. 

"You don't ever have to apologise okay? I should have been the one to realise what you needed sooner, I'm so so _so_ sorry, Akaashi." 

Bokuto looked down, ashamed of himself. 

"Hey Bokuto-san, it's not your fault. It was just an unfortunate circumstance, okay? And for the record, without you there to ground me, I don't know what I would have done."

This time when Bokuto looked into Akaashi's eyes, he found a new light in them.

_Good._

_He shouldn't ever have to blame himself._

Kuroo clapped, deciding that it was long due to get going. 

"Me and Kenma are going to head back home, Bokuto is going to take you back to yours and keep you company to make sure you're okay, alright Akaashi?" 

Akaashi nodded, grateful that he had amazing and such thoughtful friends. 

"We'll text you later okay? See you guys soon." 

And with one last wave from Kuroo and Kenma, Bokuto and Akaashi climbed into the transport, heading home for the night. 

But the time the transport pulled up outside Akaashi's apartment, it was dark. 

The night sky was clear, which meant all the stars were on full display. What made it even more beautiful was the fact the moon was full tonight. 

"Woahhh," Bokuto stared up in awe, coming to stand next to Akaashi outside the building. 

"It's beautiful," Bokuto whispered, awestruck. 

It has been a while since he had seen a sky this beautiful and stopped to admire it. 

Akaashi hummed, "I agree."

What Bokuto didn't know that night however, after he had gone upstairs to watch movies until he tucked Akaashi into bed before leaving, was that Akaashi hadn't been staring at the fairylight strung sky. 

In fact, Akaashi had stopped admiring the sky altogether from the moment the model stood by his side. 

Akaashi had been staring at Bokuto. 

He had been _admiring_ Bokuto.

He studied his side profile, the stars and opal light shining from the moon reflected in his eyes. 

They looked molten in this light. 

Akaashi was enamored by it. 

He loved every single thing about the man before him. 

The way he sat on Akaashi's desk, the way he would playfully swing his legs, the way he could crack a joke to break awkward silence. 

His unusual salt and peppered streaked hair, the green flecks embedded among his golden eyes, the bright grins that could give the sun a run for its money. 

The way he cared about others. Put his own well being aside for those he loved and cares about most. How _strong_ he was. He was _so_ strong. 

He was amazing and wonderful and extraordinary and beautiful and absolutely enthralling, and the one thing Akaashi wished most, was for Bokuto to be able to know how much he was treasured by everyone around him. 

Akaashi _loved_ Bokuto Koutarou. 

So when a shooting star had passed above their silhouettes that night, Akaashi made a wish. 

A wish to always be grounded by Bokuto, because when he was with his star, Akaashi felt invincible. 

He felt as though he wouldn't have to keep living his life as a lie any longer. 

So when Bokuto's gasp of "it's beautiful" was uttered into the midnight of spring, Akaashi wasn't looking at the sky any longer. 

He had been admiring Bokuto. 

"I agree."

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...SOoooooooooo
> 
> i know i haven't updated in 3 whole months, wow, but A LOT has happened and i have kinda have just been all over the place mentally?! so first off, after the last update I received my GCSE results, and that was stressful because the weeks leading up to it were utter chaos and i wouldnt stop crying about if i had passed maths or not. best believe when i saw i passed, i burst out crying and wouldnt stop shaking LMAO. that being said, I also got an A** in english AND I WAS SHOCKED WHA- 
> 
> then after that, i had an induction day for college, and then after that i started college for the first time, and the workload is already CHAOS so stress levels have gone ZoooOOOOMM 
> 
> then the new haikyuu ep came out two weeks ago, and then last week i got told i would have to self isolate for a week because a kid in my class caught corona, then two days ago it was my birthday and i had to spend it alone :)
> 
> not to mention other things and the 8789475 mental breakdowns i have had. so yeah, life since last update hasnt been particulary good to me these last few months, but hey!! theres worse things going on in the world!! 
> 
> that being said, I do have to go and revise for a biology test that depends whether or not i stay on that course, so im going to drop this and go!! 
> 
> I realllyyyyyyyy am so so so so sorry for the wait, i hope you thoroughly enjoyed this chapter, and i appreciate kudos and comments!! 
> 
> until next time, Bon 💜


	14. 'I Still Need You'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst Angst Angst KUROkENnnnn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi hiiiii!! 
> 
> ty all so much for the comments on the previous chapter, i'd be lying if i said it didnt make my year (which it very obviously has ahah) ;) 
> 
> this chapter is quite short compared to the others, and it's mainly focused around Kuroken!! this particular flashback was one that I couldnt wait to share since it's one of my favourites in regards to them going forward!! 
> 
> i'd also be lying if i said i didnt cry while writing this so um...enjoy!!! 
> 
> i didnt know why everyone loved to hurt their favs so much in their fics and threads until i wrote this fic, and now i know why. we hurt them because we love them so much... 
> 
> ps: pay close attention to the lyrics :) 
> 
> i really am sorry... <3

__

_Loving and fighting  
Accusing, denying  
I can't imagine a world with you gone  
The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of  
I'd be so lost if you left me alone_

__

__

__

_A long endless highway, you're silent beside me  
Drivin' a nightmare I can't escape from  
Helplessly praying, the light isn't fadin'  
Hiding the shock and the chill in my bones_

__

__

__

_They took you away on a table  
I pace back and forth as you lay still  
They pull you in to feel your heartbeat  
Can you hear me screaming, "Please don't leave me"_

__

__

__

_Hold on, I still want you  
Come back, I still need you  
Let me take your hand, I'll make it right  
I swear to love you all my life  
Hold on, I still need you_

__

_  
_

###### 

1st June. 

Two days after the live awards ceremony, and Bokuto was currently camping out at Akaashi’s apartment, _again._

At this point, Akaashi didn’t know why Bokuto was round his place every chance he could grab. He supposes it’s because they’re really close and Bokuto enjoys his company, but even that fact alone makes Akaashi undeniably happy. 

He just hoped that this routine of closeness they had going on would never stop. 

They were currently sitting on the sofa, Bokuto waving his arms enthusiastically while almost shouting about how he still couldn't believe he won the Top model award. 

“Kaashiiiiii, I just can’t believe it.” 

He finally leaned back against the sofa, allowing Akaashi to rest his head on his shoulder again, now that he wasn’t so immersed in leaning towards the TV as he watched the award show that Akaashi had made sure to record before he left that evening. 

“I know, Bokuto-san, you’ve said so a million times.” 

Although Akaashi had a smile plastered on his face, happy to just lean on the top model and hear him go on about how he still couldn’t believe it. 

Bokuto looked down at his assistant, a pout on his face. 

Although that pout that Akaashi found ever so adorable vanished and was replaced by a smirk and narrow eyes peering down at him instead. 

“Well,” Bokuto started off, eyebrow arched, “maybe I can see why I got it. Afterall, I am charmfully handsome, aren’t I, Akaashi?”

Akaashi knew that he was going to hate Bokuto’s new found explanation as soon as that pout was replaced with that ever so annoying smirk that Akaashi wanted to slap off of his face. 

Okay, maybe ‘slap’ wasn’t the most fitting word, more like Akaashi wanted to ki—

A loud growl cut through the room, Bokuto’s face going beetroot red. 

Akaashi lifted his head from it’s resting place, and turned to face Bokuto, this time, his own eyebrow arched and a smirk plastered on his face. 

Much to Bokuto's chagrin, Akaashi chuckled and shoved him near enough off the sofa. 

“I asked you if you were hungry a thousand times! I knew we had lunch too early,” Akaashi berated. 

Bokuto looked down, almost as if he was annoyed at his stomach. 

“Yeah but we had a really big lunch, so I thought it would last me until tomorrow's breakfast,” Bokuto mumbled shyly. 

As if on cue, almost as if the universe was telling Bokuto to not be so stupid, another loud rumble cut through the room. 

Except this time round, it didn’t come from Bokuto’s own stomach. 

No, it came from Akaashi’s. 

Next thing the assistant knew, his back was being thrown onto the sofa and he was getting attacked with tickles, once again. 

“B-Bokuto-san, no!” Akaashi screeched, not at all missing this from the first time it happened that day when they got soaked. 

“Or what?” Bokuto growled, pausing for a second to pin Akaashi’s arms above his head, peering down into his eyes. 

Akaashi blushed, turning his head to the side so he didn’t have to look into Bokuto’s intense eyes. 

“Kaashhhiii,” Bokuto whined, “Look at me.”

When Akaashi didn’t comply, Bokuto decided it was time to resume the tickling. 

Akaashi thrashed about underneath the model's unrelenting grip, “Please Bokuto-san! I-It’s really late and I don’t want Doris to think a murder is taking place!”

Although he knew that not even the world ending could wake Doris up once she was out for night, Akaashi would do literally anything if it meant that Bokuto would stop torturing him. 

Luckily enough for Akaashi, Bokuto decided to cease all torturing and tickling, ultimately releasing Akaashi from his hold beneath him. 

“Well, looks like we’re getting take out Kaashi!” 

“Or we could go out to a noodle bar?” Akaashi looked hesitantly to his side, knowing it was nearly midnight, and Bokuto might want to stay in for the night. 

“Of course! Why not, it’ll be a little adventure this time of night, trying to run away from the paparazzi!” 

Akaashi chuckled, “Surely they should all be in their beds by now?” 

Bokuto huffed, “You’d be surprised Akaashi, they’re like bloodsuckers, only come out at night. Plus,” Bokuto handed Akaashi his jacket, “we’re not in bed right now, are we?” 

And if Akaashi told himself that Bokuto’s snarky and smart remarks got on his nerves, he would be lying to himself deeply. 

Instead he chuckled, knowing that Bokuto was in fact, correct. 

That night as Bokuto and Akaashi sat at the noodle bar facing out towards the window, watching the midnight passers pass by, Akaashi couldn’t help but think what he had been planning to tell Bokuto tonight. 

Yesterday, the day after the awards ceremony, Bokuto had made an official coming out tweet. He had said to Akaashi that after his speech at the awards ceremony, he had gained a lot of sudden confidence and knew that as long as he had his father's support, and his friends no matter what, that's all that mattered. 

His fans to say the least weren't at all angry (not that they should be, Akaashi and Kuroo and Kenma had to remind him) , and although it could be a harmful thing, others had even speculated it from the copious amounts of hints Bokuto had given his fans and viewers over the years. 

Bokuto had been in a good mood ever since dropping Akaashi off outside his apartment that night, especially after a long day of worrying over Akaashi himself. 

Akaashi found it ironic really. How after his talk with Oikawa, although only two days ago, had also given him a sudden urge of confidence, this time feeling as though it was here to stay. 

Of course, it wasn't only his talk with Oikawa that had him actually mustering up the courage and actually telling Bokuto everything, from his past to his own feelings toward the owl-like man. 

This past month Akaashi had been thinking about it non stop, mustering up the courage, trying to be brave, telling himself to put himself out there and finally be happy, even if Bokuto didn't return his feelings, he had gotten a lifelong weight off of his chest. 

So of course, Akaashi had found it ironic, especially since today, every moment he thought was perfect to tell Bokuto, ended up being ruined. 

Not ruined exactly, but more like, _backed out of._

Bokuto had trusted Akaashi with so much, even after the short amount of time of knowing each other. In just that little amount of time, they had built a trust up with each other that proved what they had was special. 

Bokuto had told him things that only his closest friends on earth knew. And Akaashi had been grateful. Grateful that Bokuto had let him in enough to see this vulnerable side of him. 

After all, love was about seeing the more vulnerable parts of each other, letting the other person in. That was part of it. And it could be painstakingly beautiful at times, as well as devastating. 

But Akaashi didn't feel like he owed Bokuto anything either, far from it. He just had to tell him. 

He wanted to. 

_Needed_ to. 

It was like this unscratchable itch simmering beneath his skin, one that he just couldn't get rid of until he was fully satisfied and at peace of mind. 

So when Akaashi had decided to set his chopsticks aside, laying them next to his finished bowl of ramen, eyes focused on the neon 'open' sign reflecting in that mornings rainfall on the pavement, he looked at Bokuto's eyes through the reflection of the glass window, determined. 

He found golden ones already staring into his own, broccoli halfway hanging out of his slightly parted mouth. 

Akaashi would have found it amusing if he wasn't just about to admit a life long secret to him. 

"Bokuto-san, I—" 

"Hey Akaashi, why do you always choose to hang out with me every time you're free? Don't you get bored of me? How will you ever find yourself a girlfriend to make you happy the times I can't?" Bokuto mumbled, eyes looking down, breaking away from Akaashi 

_Where on earth did that come from?!_ Bokuto reprimanded himself, eyes suddenly going wide. 

Akaashi screamed internally. 

_Nope. Maybe another time…_

That night when they got back home, the movie flickering into the silence of the room, Akaashi fell into a peaceful slumber on Bokuto’s shoulder, the owl-like man’s own arms keeping him close into the early hours of the morning. 

###### 

_Earlier that night, Kenma’s penthouse…_

Kenma was in the middle of his scheduled 10pm livestream with his fans when Kuroo stumbled through the door, made his way through the hall and collapsed onto kenma where he was sitting in the middle of the front room floor. 

“K-Kuro?” Kenma tilted his head to the side, peering down at where the older man had fallen, slumped next to him. 

As soon as Kenma smelt the strong, bitter scent of alcohol on Kuroo’s breath, he knew it was for the best to end his livestream for the night. 

“Sorry everyone, something came up so I am going to have to cut it short for tonight.”

He tried not to let the shame overtake him. 

He was lucky that he made the decision to not have his camera turned on tonight, only his mic. 

He let his controller and headphones fall lightly onto the floor, shifting himself so he could directly look at Kuroo without throwing him onto the floor with how unbalanced he was against Kenma at the moment.  
“Kuro,” Kenma asked pitifully, already knowing the dreaded answer he did not want to hear tonight. 

Not after Kuroo promised. 

Not after they were both starting to get better after all these years. 

“Are you drunk?” He finally whispered into the silence of the house. 

...

“Mhm n-noo,” Kuroo slurred. 

Kenma’s mouth fell open, then closed, feeling the tell tale sign of tears prickling his eyes. 

_Not tonight, not tonight, not tonight._

Slowly, he helped lift Kuroo up and off of him, carefully maneuvering him so he didn’t fully faceplant onto the floor, just enough so he was sitting on the sofa. 

Kenma was staring dead into Kuroo’s eyes, arms crossed, and trying to not let rage and emotion take over him. 

No matter how hard Kuroo tried focusing on those piercing cat-like eyes, he just couldn’t seem to. Somewhere, in the back of the still conscious parts of his mind, he was screaming at himself to _stop being such a fucking idiot, don’t do this to Kenma._

_Don’t do this to him after how far you’ve both come._

“K-Kitten,” Kuroo mumbled, hand reaching up to cup the smallers cheek, long nimble fingers brushing behind his ear sloppily. 

Kenma still let himself lean into the warmth of his touch. 

He blinked, trying to snap out of it. 

“Don’t.” 

Then more brokenly; _“Please,_ don’t.” 

It seemed as though right there and then Kuroo snapped out of this own drunken haze. He blinked a few times, more aware of his surroundings and of Kenma’s broken, trembling voice sobering him up. 

Kenma clenched his fists by his side, feeling all the anger bubble to the surface. 

“Kuro, why? _Why_ come home drunk when you promised us you wouldn’t anymore.” 

He paused for a moment, voice small in the large space of the penthouse; 

“Promised _me.”_

Kenma couldn’t take it anymore, not when they had finally had a talk about getting back on track with whatever _this_ was they had going on. 

“Tell me,” Kenma said, voice raising an octave higher, “tell me why you’re doing this to me! Why you’re doing this to _yourself.”_

“Why, when you know the reason you can’t follow your dreams and why we are in this whole mess in the first place is because of _drinking!”_

Kuroo looked down at the floor, screwing his eyes shut. 

“Look at me!” He screeched. 

“What even are we anymore, Kuro?! How do I know whatever _this,”_ Kenma gestured between them, “is. How do I know you mean it?” 

He paused and looked down, unsure before speaking his next set of words.

“How do I even know that what we have is _real_ anymore?” 

Kenma looked down as he uttered the last sentence, afraid of what he was going to find if he looked at Kuroo. 

It was then he felt the sudden touch of fingertips against his cheek for the second time that night, though this time, he knew better than to lean into it.

“If you don’t want me Kuroo, you can stop pretending. I’m fed up with this cat and mouse game. It’s about time someone stopped it after all these years, right?” 

Kenma felt the large drops of water freely fall. 

“D-Don’t you agree?”

He winced as he heard his own voice crack. 

“Kenma, you know that’s not t-true,” Kuroo whispered, his own tears now falling down. 

“How do I know that anymore, Kuro?” Kenma sniffed. 

“Because!” Kuroo dropped his hand, standing up from the couch in an instant. 

“Because I _love_ you Kenma!” 

He looked up from where his eyes had been glued to the floor most of the night, meeting directly with Kenma’s own. 

He needed him to know. 

“I don’t just love you Kozume Kenma,” Kuroo whispered the last parts, an unknown secret that was already known spoken into the night. 

“I’m _in_ love with you.” 

“And I can’t stop it…I don’t _want_ to stop it.” 

Kenma stumbled back, not expecting to hear the one thing, the one confirmation he needed to hear over the past five years be spoken out loud from the person he needed it from the most. 

Kenma stood there, mouth opening and shutting like a fish gasping for air. 

He knew Kuroo wasn’t at fault. All these feelings he had been pushing down all these years, his own guilt, was beginning to come out in the open. 

It was about time Kenma spoke his own truth after all these years, especially since he couldn’t go on blaming the person he loved for his own mistake. 

“How can you love me when I’m the reason you can’t play professionally?” Kenma sobbed. 

“Why do you still love me Kuro?!” 

“Kenma,” Kuroo stumbled forward, tripping on the carpet as he went to hug the man before him, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

But he didn’t care. 

Not right now when all he needed to do was comfort the person he loved, the person who was currently holding onto him, clutching his shirt in his small fists as he finally told Kuroo everything he had been keeping inside of him all these years. 

How he really, _truly_ felt. 

Now they were both holding tightly onto each other, sobs and broken gasps echoing throughout, reverberating through them both. 

“Shhh, shhh, that’s not true, and you know that,” Kuroo said softly. 

He seemed to be sobered up now, mind focused on one thing and one thing only.

“N-No,” Kenma gasped, “I’m the reason that night you got told you had to quit, I-I should have said no when you were driving all that way to see me.” 

The tears wouldn’t stop falling, Kenma muffled wetly into his chest, Kuroo’s face buried in Kenma’s hair. 

“Stop,” Kuroo sobbed, “We had plans Kenma, I was on my way to celebrate with you, it’s neither of our faults. It’s my fault I keep drinking every time I needed to confront a problem, it’s my fault for pushing everyone away. _You_ away.” 

Kenma let out a high pitched cry, knowing Kuroo was right. 

“But it’s also my fault for not telling you how I truly felt sooner, maybe we could have gotten to this part quicker,” Kenma let out a little bitter laugh. 

Kuroo sniffed wetly, “that’s also true, in that case then, we are both partly to blame, but Kenma,” Kuroo grabbed his face to make him look dead into his eyes. 

Both of them were in a state, eyes red rimmed, clumped lashes and snot running from their noses. 

“Listen to me. It was not your fault that I can’t play anymore. No one could have predicted that.” 

Kenma froze, dazed, then slowly nodded. 

Kuroo hugged him close once more, before lifting Kenma up from the floor, albeit wobbly and trying to walk as steadily as he could, heading for the bedroom. 

He softly laid him down, all the shouting and crying exhausting him, not able to keep his eyes open. 

Kuroo stood fully up again, turning to walk out of the room before a hand grabbed onto his own, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Kuro, please don’t go, I still need you.” 

The model looked down, seeing Kenma blink tiredly up at him. 

_God,_ what he’d give to wake up to that face every day. 

How could he say no?

Carefully, Kuroo climbed into the bed, wrapping the sheets around them both; it didn’t take long before Kenma was snuggling up close to his chest again, burying himself in the larger man's warmth. 

Kuroo soothingly stroked through the toned hair, lulling him to sleep. 

“I’m here, and I’m never going to leave. Not now, not ever, Kitten,” and with those last words murmured into the dark, Kuroo pressed a soft kiss to Kenma’s hair. 

###### 

_Six years ago, the night of Kenma’s graduation…_

“Hey kitten, excited for tonight?” Kuroo smirked, knowing that Kenma couldn’t see him through the call, but could vividly picture the bright red blush on his cheeks. 

Too bad Kenma was at home, meaning he couldn't throw a pillow at him just yet. 

“Kuro,” Kenma’s embarrassed grumble came through the speaker phone of the car, “I know you’re smirking right now.” 

Kuroo chuckled, _busted._

“If you carry on, tonight won’t happen at all.” 

“Puddinggggg,” Kuroo feigned hurt, “Don’t do this to me.” 

Kenma’s cute snort echoed through the car, making Kuroo smile that dumb lovestruck smile. 

Tonight was the night they had both been wanting for a while now, and it only felt right to spend their first night together while celebrating Kenma’s graduation, parents out of the house. 

Both of them were nervous. 

“Seriously though, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there for the main ceremony. I really wanted to see you walk up there in your robes.” 

Kenma laughed, “It’s okay, you had an important match for the Uni team, it was a big opportunity. I take it you and Bokuto won?” 

Kuroo grinned, trying not to fistpump the air, focusing on driving the car through the pouring rain at night time. 

“Hell yeah we did! Although, I think Bokuto’s quitting soon, he was talking about his mum signing a full time contract with Fukurodani modeling agency, especially since he’s nineteen now.” 

Kenma hummed, knowing full well Bokuto was upset he had to quit volleyball, but was happy he got to play for one more year nonetheless. 

“Well,” Kenma’s sultry voice came through, “You winning your game and me finally graduating calls for double the celebration, don’t you think?” 

This time round, it was Kuroo’s turn to blush.  
“Kitten, you’re going to be the death of me one day,” Kuroo breathed out, pulling up to a red light. 

Kenma laughed, “How far away are you anyways, I don’t want to wait any longer.” 

Blunt as always. 

“I’m just stuck at traffic lights at the moment, but I’m coming off the highway now. I should be at yours in about fifteen minutes.” 

Kenma hummed, satisfied with his answer. 

The light changed from amber to green, Kuroo going to cross the junction to make his way to the other side. 

What he failed to notice was the truck speeding from his right hand side, not bothering to stop at their own red light. 

“Kenma, I’m going to hang up now as I should be there soon, I lov—” 

Next thing Kenma knew, there was an ear pitching screech and loud crash coming through the speakers, followed by the distinct sound of glass shattering and car horns going off. 

“Kuro?!” 

Nothing. 

Then muffled shouting. 

“Kuro?!” 

Kenma’s heart leapt in his throat, this couldn't be happening. 

Feeling numb, limbs weighing him down like led, Kenma made a run down the stairs, only pausing for a mere millisecond to put on shoes, not bothering with keys or a coat, just a hoodie and phone in his pocket. 

Waiting for a bus or calling taxis would take too long. 

Kenma made a run for it.

Kenma hated running, but right now, feeling the burn in his lungs and thighs, all he could do was run as though he had never ran before, through the pouring rain, the water obscuring his vision. 

He ended up at the hospital before he even decided he was heading there. 

He burst through the main entrance, running up to the front desk, heaving for air.  
“Kuro!” Kenma shouted as he slammed his fists onto the desk. 

The woman flinched, looking up in surprise. 

“Has anyone been admitted here by the name of Kuroo Tetsurou?!” He gasped loudly, water droplets falling all over the wooden desk. 

The women quickly typed into the computer system, seeing how urgent and desperate the boy before her was.

“No, no one has been admitted with that na—”

Although, her sentence got cut off as she paused midway, eyes wide and focused on the door opening a few metres away. 

Kenma noticed her bewildered expression immediately, and almost didn’t want to turn around, knowing what he’d see. 

He turned his head around in that direction, heart beating fast, gut sinking. 

There, before his eyes, the scene played out before him in slow motion. 

Two paramedics held open the doors on both sides, whilst the other four medics carried two people through on stretchers. 

One, covered in blood, but still conscious, a man he did not recognise. 

However, the unconscious body laid out, still as ever, an oxygen mask strapped to his face, with distinct hair that Kenma would know anywhere, was Kuroo. 

Kenma felt a chill go through him, shock still.

He had blood pouring from under his bangs, glass shards ripped through his clothes and buried into his skin, and his legs.

_Oh god his legs…_

Kenma tried to hold his vomit down. 

He ran over to where he was, but a man, a doctor he figured, stopped him. 

“Let me through,” Kenma grit his teeth. 

“I’m so sorry, but he is in a critical condition at the moment, we need to get him into emergency surgery right away.” 

“I don’t care, just let me talk to him!” Kenma made a run to where the stretcher, to where Kuroo was now ahead of him, being taken away from him, down the hall. 

“I’m sorry young man, but you will have to wait until after the operation.” 

Kenma thrashed about, the doctor having to restrain him in his arms to stop him getting through. 

“Kuro!!” Kenma screamed, hoping he could hear him. 

Kenma punched his fists up, banging against the doctors chest, only realising he was now being lifted from the floor in an attempt to calm down. 

“Please,” he begged quietly, voice breaking as he continued; 

“Please don’t leave me!” 

Kenma looked up a few seconds later, teary and wide eyed as he sobbed; "Will he make it?"

The doctor paused, looking away in sympathy. 

“I cannot promise you anything this early on.” 

Kenma felt himself sink to the ground, silent as the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. 

Everyone and everything around him was a blur, only the constant ringing in his ears. 

It was then Kenma felt strong arms wrap around him, holding him to his chest. 

He knew the smell immediately. 

Bokuto. 

Bokuto was hugging him to his chest, also crying but trying to stay strong for Kenma. 

Kenma looked over his shoulder, seeing Kuroo’s father and grandfather wipe their tears. 

It had been an overnight stay at the hospital, Kuroo’s grandfather being driven home with Yousuke, Yousuke telling the boys to call him immediately if anything happened. 

Bokuto and Kenma hadn’t uttered a word to each other, instead Bokuto taking a seat, leg bouncing up and down whilst Kenma paced back and forth across the room. 

Kenma felt as though he should break the silence, voice raspy.

“Did they contact you from his emergency contact?” 

Bokuto nodded, “Yeah, they called Yousuke and then he called me on the way here.” 

Kenma nodded, he figured that was the case. 

The waiting room was silent, only Bokuto and himself in it. 

It was now 4AM, and Kuroo had been in a ten hour surgery so far. 

It was then that the surgeon came through the doors, and Bokuto stood up immediately, Kenma freezing to turn to him. 

“I am happy to tell you both that he will make it, and is in a stable condition. We have currently moved him to his own room and are waiting for him to gain consciousness.” 

Both of their shoulders slumped, happy to hear that he was going to be okay. 

“If you don’t mind me asking for legal reasons, but what is your relation to him?” 

Kenma blushed, and Bokuto went to answer for him. 

"I'm his boyfriend," Kenma cut through. 

Now was not the time to be ashamed of what others thought. 

Screw them.

“I’m his best friend."

“Ah, I see. Well as soon as he regains consciousness, i’ll let you both know so you can see him.” 

“Thank you,” Bokuto spoke as the doctor turned to leave. 

“Hey Kenma, I’m just going to phone Yousuke.” 

Kenma tried to muster a smile, grateful, “thank you.”

It took another two hours before they could finally visit him, Yousuke and Kenma sitting in the chairs either side of Kuroo’s bed, Bokuto standing by the window at the foot end of it. 

Kenma was sobbing into the sheets, holding onto Kuroo’s hand, Yousuke trying not to let his emotions overtake him while Bokuto just stood there with a hand clamped over his mouth, not daring to let his tears spill. 

“I will give you some time alone,” the doctor announced, bowing and leaving them. 

It was then that Kuroo started crying into the crook of Kenma’s shoulder, sobs wracking through him. 

Kuroo had been diagnosed with a major concussion, internal bleeding on the stomach and kidney, one broken wrist, and two broken legs that were now stuffed with metal pins. 

Not to mention how he had damaged the vertebrae around his spinal cord, and even with months of healing and it fusing back together, he will experience discomfort and put no tremendous amounts of strain on it for the rest of his life. 

It was then that he got told he couldn't play volleyball, at least not professionally as a career. 

He felt as though his whole future had been shattered. 

The cause of it all was a car crash.  
A drunken driver that didn’t stop at a red light, and had only gotten away with a mild concussion and sprained ankle. 

Kuroo felt more rage than sorrow. 

Not long after getting discharged from the hospital, Kuroo started pulling away from his family and friends. 

He pulled away from Kenma, ultimately resulting in them both breaking up. 

Kenma had found Kuroo passed out drunk on his front room couch when he went to visit him at the University. 

It took months of getting back on track, and after the initial anger and bereavement passed, Kuroo vowed to himself to be better, and he knew that his nan was looking down on him. He would get better for her. 

Do better. 

Bokuto had ended up getting him a job at Nekoma, through his many friends he knew in the business. 

Kenma’s career started taking off professionally as a youtuber. 

Two years later, three after the accident, Kuroo became Nekoma’s top model at age 21. 

He had finally made his first accomplishment in his new career, and felt as though maybe he could live with this. 

He loved his friends and family. 

He loved the company he worked for. 

He enjoyed all the benefits that came with being famous, although there were annoying things that came with it too. 

He was slowly becoming himself again, and only every once in a while relapsed when certain nights hit him hard, causing a minor slip. 

The one thing he regretted most out of it all, the one thing he would _never_ forgive himself for, however, was pulling away from Kenma. 

From the one he loved most. 

###### 

_Present…_

Kuroo woke up from a restless sleep, Kenma still lights out, curled into him. 

He peered over his shoulder, checking the time. 

4AM.

Although it was early, Kuroo doubted he’d be able to get anymore sleep; instead he slowly unwrapped himself from Kenma's grasp, and made his way to the kitchen. 

The tap turned on, cold water splashing against the counter top as Kuroo grabbed some pain killers. 

He then made his way to the front room, where he opened up the laptop on the coffee table. 

It was time to make a change. 

But this time round, a more permanent one. 

Especially if he and Kenma wanted to rekindle their relationship, they deserved to be happy after all this time. 

_There’s just something I need to do first,_ Kuroo thought. 

He smiled softly, knowing this was for the greater good. 

A fresh, new start. 

————

_

I don't wanna let go  
I know I'm not that strong  
I just wanna hear you  
Saying baby, let's go home  
Let's go home  
Yeah, I just wanna take you home

Hold on, I still want you  
Come back, I still need you

~ Hold On, Chord Overstreet

_

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! 
> 
> fun fact!! (kinda) this chapter was one of the VERY FIRST kuroken flashbacks i came up with, so for kuroken, everything else to do with them was built around this one flashback for them ahaha :) 
> 
> saying that, the next chapter is probably one of my favourite chapters of all time (if i can execute it well ahha) because the next chapter is entirely bokuaka centered. it's also the FIRST scene i imagined for their story when i was thinking ab writing this fic. so just like kuroken this chapter, bokuaka next chapter is the whole reason everything else in this fic exists, was built around i should say KSDJSADKA
> 
> Also last thing!! During that first scene with Kuroo coming home drunk, kenma was actually supposed to tell him to get out (to which kuroo does leave and ends up at akaashis knowing bokuto is there) and kenma alone, clutching kuroos jacket he left on the couch there. 
> 
> butttt after much debate, i though it would ruin the realtionship they had come to build up so far in moving forwards, and they would be back to square one haha. so i got kenma to admit it all in this chapter too, when it was supposed to be two chapters from now. 
> 
> thats why kenma ends up clutching kuroos shirt in bed instead ;) 
> 
> i genuinely am so thankful if you have read this far, its my first fic and im overjoyed with the response its gotten so far, i never thought itd get to 300 kudos!!! So thank you all for the 300 kudos THATS INSANE TO ME, me and my bestie were screaming about it on call two nights ago AHAHA. 
> 
> also with Akaashi's "Ki—" at the beginning,,,, Kiss or kill, we will never know hehe ;) 
> 
> until next time, Bon 💜 also happy spooky month!! 👻
> 
> ENJOY THE NEW HQ EP!!! how fitting its about nekoma lmao-- 
> 
> someone shut me up


	15. A Million Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the most self idulgent thing I have ever written, along with the last chapter ahah :)

_You and me  
Got ourselves a problem  
I can see this  
Better than I solve 'em  
I believed  
I found a way around it  
I will leave this better than I found it_

_There's too much smoke to see it  
There's too much broke to feel this  
Well, I love you, I love you  
And all of your pieces  
There's too much smoke to see it  
There's too much broke to feel this  
Well, I love you, I love you  
And all of your pieces_

_~ Pieces, Andrew Belle_

###### 

Tuesday June 3rd. 

Akaashi was currently standing by the Fukurodani office doors, pocketing his phone and wallet. 

He thought back to yesterday, and how it had been pretty much a normal day at the office, with the occasional bantering from Konoha making them all laugh, along with Washio’s and Akaashi’s sarcastic replies back. 

At lunch time however, Kuroo had made an appearance to visit in his lunch hour, like he used to do when Akaashi first started but suddenly stopped after two times. 

Bokuto hadn’t said a word about it, and after Kenma asked him to meet in the coffee shop a few weeks back to get something off his chest, he had a good understanding of why. 

But when Kuroo’s rooster hair appeared through the doors next to Akaashi’s desk at 1pm yesterday, everyone in the office knew that Kuroo was genuinely happy. 

He was back to sneaking into Bokuto’s office, making a plan to jump scare him; his snide remarks and Cheshire grins that were an exact replica of Konoha’s as the two bantered together were back. 

And most of all, which made Bokuto’s eyes light up and Akaashi softly smile the most, was that Kuroo was back to bragging about Kenma 24/7, like how he would mention his name somehow in every sentence without meaning to when Akaashi first met Kuroo. 

He and Bokuto both knew that they must be moving forward together. 

“Hey Akaashi,” Bokuto’s voice broke him out of his reverie, “ready to go?” 

Akaashi smiled and nodded; “Of course, Bokuto-san.” 

It was already dark as they made their way out of Fukurodani Co, and Akaashi had insisted that he’d stay for an extra two hours after closing since Bokuto had to finish important emails and paperwork, that he still hadn’t been able to get through even after two hours. 

Since they both enjoyed their last minute meal the previous sunday, Bokuto suggested that they’d go out again for dinner after work, and Akaashi happily agreed.

When they both arrived home that sunday night, something had clicked. When Bokuto woke up to find Akaashi snuggled up to him, with his own arms wrapped around him in return, Bokuto felt warm. 

He felt soothed. 

Maybe it was the sense of comfort Bokuto felt as the sunlight seeped through the gaps in the blinds, the early hours of the morning as the birds began to chirp. 

Or maybe it was in the way that Bokuto hadn’t bashfully looked away as Akaashi slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he gained a sense of awareness, the ever so soft smile that graced his lips as he did. 

Directed at Bokuto. 

Directed at _him._

And maybe, just maybe, it was in the way Akaashi huskily whispered “Goodmorning Bokuto-san.” 

Bokuto knew it was wishful thinking, selfish even, to want to hear that every morning, ‘Koutarou’ on his tongue instead. 

They were currently walking side by side down the pavement, on their way to their desired destination for their meal. 

It was silent, but rather a comfortable silence. 

Bokuto didn’t mind it one bit, and he was certain Akaashi’s mind was turning a thousand cogs as he looked around at the city, taking it all in as he conjured up his next poetry piece. 

Bokuto went back to reminiscing. 

He knew something had changed a while back even. 

A paradigm shift between the two of them, underlying but never approaching; but it held the power to make Bokuto rethink everything Akaashi had ever told him. 

Made himself out to be. 

Making Bokuto think that he had a _chance._

Bokuto gulped, looking sidelong at the ethereal man beside him. 

They were already walking close enough, so just maybe, if Bokuto could intertwine their fingers together just like that one night that seemed so long ago—

Except Bokuto didn't have to. 

He looked down to where the sudden warmth on his hand was, then looked back up, eyes going wide, to find Akaashi already smiling at him, flushed cheeks on full display. 

“Let’s go.” 

And with that, Akaashi pulled Bokuto into the night. 

They both walked out of the restaurant, bellies full and chests warm, only to find it pouring down of rain. 

It sure had been raining a lot this summer. 

“Bokuto-san, we left our raincoats at work,” Akaashi reminded the owl-like man. 

Bokuto hummed, thinking underneath the shelter of the restaurant. 

“You know what ‘Kaashi,” he looked at him from the corner of his eye, “let’s just go and have some fun tonight!” 

“But we’re already having fun, aren’t we? Plus, we’ll catch colds.” 

Bokuto looked at the raven, smirking; “Then I’ll just have to keep you warm.”

###### 

They had been practically running around Tokyo for two hours now. 

And Akaashi had never experienced a sense of freedom like this before in his whole life. 

His belly ached from so much laughter, him and Bokuto battling it out on the arcades, or giggling non stop as they both tried to outdo each other on the ‘just dance!’ machines. It was the freedom he felt in the way he was pulled by the wrist by Bokuto, once they finished one fun activity in one area, it was onto the next. 

And if Akaashi said that he didn’t purposefully gang up with a random teenage girl that idolised Bokuto on the midnight go karts, he would be lying. 

They were out on the pavement again now, the rain only a slight drizzle. 

Akaashi suddenly stopped, making Bokuto halt back. 

“What’s up?” Bokuto asked as Akaashi stood there, staring, mesmerised by a massive wall of sunflowers. 

They were the biggest and most radiant Akaashi had ever seen. 

Although it was raining, Akaashi was in no rush to go. 

Instead he turned to Bokuto, eyes glistening from the neon lights, cheeks flushed from the refreshing rain; 

“They remind me of you.” 

And if Bokuto stood there speechless, reaching out to hold his hand again for the second time that night albeit tighter, more desperate, only the city would witness that moment shared. 

He looked down to where their hands were intertwined together, Bokuto still enthralled by the fact Akaashi’s palms were wider, fingers longer than his own. 

He revelled in that feeling, finding himself never wanting to let go. 

It was only then that the sound of Bokuto’s phone went off. 

He tried not to look at it, not wanting to break this spell held over them at this very moment, but he recognised the exact notification that was from the app. 

He pulled his phone out, Akaashi waiting patiently in case it was something urgent. 

Bokuto knew what it was. 

He knew as soon as he heard that damned specific sound for the app.

It was the ‘Last Spotted In Tokyo' app, the one notification he hadn’t heard since that night he asked to meet Kuroo. 

His gut sinked. 

It was a photo of himself and Akaashi holding hands. 

Although it was blurry, you could distinctly make out who it was. And now that Akaashi was also gaining attention from his own photoshoot with worldwide famous Kodzuken, it made matters worse. 

His mind went blank. 

He couldn’t tell Akaashi. 

He would freak out like all the other times when they got too close. 

Bokuto didn’t want Akaashi to run away. 

Not now. 

Not when tonight felt like something special. 

“What is it?” Akaashi asked innocently. 

Bokuto thought quickly, trying to come up with something as an excuse.

It was only then that he realised that they had left their raincoats back at Fukurodani, thinking back to what Akaashi said a few hours ago. 

In fact, that excuse worked out perfectly, Bokuto also having left his laptop on his desk which he needed to take back home with him, having to sit through the night to respond to emails he didn’t have the time to finish beforehand. 

“Ah, it was just Kuroo asking about a new game for Kenma. Besides it’s getting late, let’s head back to Fukuro to grab our stuff and then go home to warm up.” 

Akaashi pretended to ignore the way his cheeks reddened at the way the model said “Home.” 

Instead he complied, nodding with an “Of course.”

###### 

Twenty minutes later and they were both standing in Bokuto’s office, the room pitch black except for a sliver of light from the streetlights and billboards outside, raindrops reflecting onto the desk, the only source of light. 

Bokuto was shuffling around and behind his desk, making sure he had all the correct papers in his laptop bag, making sure he had absolutely everything he needed to get done by tomorrow morning. 

Bokuto bent over the mohagony, reaching for the keys to lock up, only to pause midway. 

Akaashi was just about to ask what was wrong, before Bokuto suddenly spoke up. 

_“Akaashi,”_ Bokuto spoke lowly; 

His voice was quiet, but the intensity of it in the emptiness of the office sent a shiver down his spine. 

“Do you know why I gave you a higher pay? That day when we first met.” 

Akaashi was taken back, _where was he going with this?_

“It was because I didn’t want you to leave. Leave like all the others did,” he spoke in a small voice, the only other sound were the cars whirring past below in the streets, not knowing. 

“So I thought that if I offered you a higher pay that day, you would be more tempted to stay. To not _run away.”_

“Bokuto-san, I—”

“—I know. I know now that you never will.” 

Bokuto looked over to where Akaashi was standing in the corner, finally looking at him properly, dead in the eyes. 

“I trust you, Akaashi.” 

Akaashi gulped, feeling the sudden shift in the atmosphere. 

“But that wasn’t the only reason I gave you a higher pay. It was because when I first laid my eyes on you, I was intrigued.” 

Bokuto walked to where Akaashi was still standing in the corner of his office, next to the armchair.

_“I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”_

He reached out, running his fingertips smoothly over Akaashi’s tie, then downwards, tracing around the buttons. 

Akaashi felt his skin burn, and he wasn’t even fully touching him yet. 

“I really do like this shirt on you, Akaashi.” 

Akaashi’s heart stuttered, heartbeat suddenly raising at an alarming rate; he could hear it in his ears, pounding in his throat. 

“It really brings out your eyes,” Bokuto murmured.

Akaashi felt the heat in the room intensify, and when he looked up to find Bokuto’s golden eyes already staring into his own ones, where there was a storm in his, he found a fire burning in Bokuto’s. 

A fire that he had never seen before. 

His throat suddenly felt dry. 

_He couldn’t keep living his life a lie._

Not when Bokuto showed him what love feels like, what love is _meant_ to be like. 

Akaashi moved his head forward ever so slightly, just close enough so that both their noses softly bumped against each other, foreheads touching. Akaashi saw Bokuto’s eyes flicker down, and Akaashi flushed when he realised he was looking at his lips.

Neither of them wanted to make the first move. 

Instead, they both stood there, hesitantly looking down at each other's lips, eyes flickering up then back down again, noses bumping together every time they thought the other was finally going to do it. 

Akaashi had enough. 

Unsurely, ever so slowly, Akaashi shyly pressed his lips to Bokuto’s own waiting ones. 

He pulled back a few seconds later, the kiss lingering even though they were touching for a mere few seconds. 

“B-Bokuto-san,” he breathed. 

Akaashi pressed his forehead to Bokuto’s again, both of them gasping for breath even though it was such a simple, soft kiss. 

Akaashi smiled up at Bokuto, a short, breathless laugh escaping him.  
Bokuto’s loving gaze vanished, instead a much more hungry one from before took over. 

Bokuto grabbed either side of Akaashi’s cheeks, and pulled him forward to crash their mouths together. 

Akaashi gasped, though the sound was swallowed by Bokuto’s hungry lips on his, and it took a moment for Akaashi to realise that this was _real._

Both of them realising that this was _actually happening._

Akaashi’s lips were more chapped than what they looked like, whilst Akaashi thought Bokuto’s were soft, quickly moving against his own as they both tried to find a rhythm that wasn’t just a clash of desperateness, hunger. 

_Yearning._

Akaashi grabbed Bokuto’s tie, yanking it down and towards him so he had a better angle, his other hand reaching up to pull at Bokuto’s hair. 

Bokuto moaned into the kiss, surprising Akaashi and feeling a different kind of heat flutter below his stomach. 

Bokuto nipped at Akaashi’s bottom lip, causing the assistant to moan in return, his mouth parting in the process. Bokuto took advantage of it, slipping his tongue into Akaashi’s mouth, brushing their tongues together. 

Akaashi gasped, immersed in the new wetness and warmth that was still so new to him. 

Akaashi licked enthusiastically into Bokuto’s mouth, both pulling back a second later to catch their breaths. 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto murmured.

Akaash’s eyes were heavily lidded, and as he panted, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the glint in the top model's eyes. 

They both grabbed at each other for the third time, never wanting to part for too long, missing the feeling of their mouths desperately moving against each other, almost as if they were starved. 

Bokuto splayed his palm over Akaashi’s chest, clutching his tie at the same time as he stepped forward, pushing him back as he continued to walk until Akaashi stopped, legs bumping against the armchair. 

He quickly turned around, never once breaking the kiss, and fell back into the chair, Akaashi yelping as Bokuto pulled his tie down with him, Akaashi now on top of Bokuto, knee’s either side of his thighs. 

Bokuto grinned up at the sight of Akaashi’s bewildered look, and yanked him down to slip his tongue back into his mouth. 

No matter how out of breath they both were, neither of them wanted to stop. 

They wanted more. 

_Needed_ more after so many months of tension, yearning, between them. 

Akaashi removed his mouth from Bokuto’s lips, instead deciding to move his attention to the model’s neck, sucking and biting at it. 

A-Akaashi,” Bokuto groaned. 

Liking the response he got, Akaashi moved upwards, pressing opened mouth kisses to along Bokuto’s defined jawline, then nipping gently on his ear.

This caused Bokuto to buck his hips up into Akaashi, which caused his assistant to moan the loudest he had so far. 

Bokuto wanted to hear more of his pretty, breathless whines. 

He rolled his hips upwards once more, causing Akaashi to ground back down in response, head buried in Bokuto’s neck, panting harshly, suddenly losing track of what he was doing. 

_Losing track of himself._

Akaashi halted. 

_What am I even doing…?_

_Why am I…?_

Akaashi climbed off Bokuto in a flash, stumbling backwards as he threatened to lose his balance. 

He walked backwards, shakily holding his hands out as if to create distance between him and Bokuto. 

A sudden string of tension was back, but not like the one from before.

No, this one was worse. One wrong move and the thread would snap: _too much pressure._

“Akaashi?” Bokuto spoke, hurt evident in his tone.  
He warily got up, not wanting to scare him away anymore than he already had.

 _No no no no no no,_ Akaashi’s mind panicked. 

Bokuto slowly approached him, almost as if he was trying to help a scared, wounded animal. 

The thread wound tighter. 

Akaashi looked up at him, seeing how much raw emotion was behind Bokuto’s eyes. 

He couldn’t bear to see that look, knowing he caused it made his heart ache deeper than it already did. 

His heartbeat was pounding in his throat, ringing in his ears as he tried to get his act together;  
Bokuto was speaking to him, but he couldn’t hear any of it, all of it muffled behind the constant _thump thump_ of his pulse. 

Akaashi could feel the thread constricting around him, almost as if an invisible string was strangling him.

Bokuto now looked like he was on the verge of tears. 

“—ashi, why did you kiss me if you didn't mean it?” 

Akaashi couldn’t take it anymore, not when he knew that all of what happened between them just now, Akaashi had meant every second of it. 

He poured every ounce of love for Bokuto that he had into it. 

“Akaashi, please,” Bokuto begged, stepping forward a little more; 

“Did I do something to hurt you? Oh my god Akaashi, did I _hurt_ you?!” 

Akaashi wanted to scream. 

Even though he had hurt him, Bokuto was still concerned about how _he_ felt, not himself. 

How could he still be so selfless when Akaashi had just done that to him, and couldn’t even tell him why? 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto took another step forward, “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, I mean I’m guess I’m used to it by now.” 

Akaashi wanted to rip his hair out. 

_No, it’s not you! It’s me!_ He wanted to scream. 

_It’s always been me._

Bokuto looked into Akaashi’s eyes, at least wanting an answer if it was just going to end like _this._ Everything between them gone, just like that. 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto looked down at the floor, voice quiet, “why did you make me believe I had a chance, only if you were going to end up running away?”

The thread snapped. 

“Because!” Akaashi cried out, shaking, “It feels like I might have fallen in love with you!” 

Akaashi clenched his fists by his side, “I _am_ in love with you.” 

Bokuto stopped in his tracks; that was the last thing he thought he would hear. 

But still, that didn’t deter him. 

If anything, that made him even _more_ determined. 

He walked up to Akaashi, tears rolling down his cheeks. 

He couldn’t lose him. 

_Not now._

Not when the love was requited. 

Bokuto reached out, grabbing Akaashi’s hand and bringing it up to his chest, placing Akaashi’s palm right over his heart. 

Akaashi’s tears silently fell, his hand steadying ever so slightly from where it was splayed over Bokuto’s chest, over his own _pounding heart._

Bokuto’s golden eyes looked serious, piercing into Akaashi’s soul. 

“Then break it,” Bokuto shakily exhaled, the tears now falling more frequently;

“Break it into a million pieces. I give you my permission.” 

Akaashi’s sobs filled the room; 

_Why? Why was Bokuto doing this to him?_

Akaashi shook his head erratically, slowly backing away from the man before him. 

Bokuto’s hand fell limp in the space between them. 

Akaashi looked down to his side, not able to meet Bokuto’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi whispered brokenly; 

_“We can’t.”_

He turned to walk out the door, leaving Bokuto standing wordlessly in the black, open space of his office. 

He stared after Akaashi, and he couldn’t help but think that it had been his fault the entire time, ever since the very first day they met. 

His heart had been shattered into a million pieces anyway.

###### 

Akaashi stumbled through the front door of his apartment, out of breath. 

He ran to the bathroom, legs like jelly, having to lean on the sink for purchase. 

He looked at himself. 

His lips were swollen and bright red.

Ever so slowly, he moved his fingers up to his mouth, lightly brushing the pads of his fingertips over them. 

He was still breathing heavily. His mind was running at a million miles per hour, he was almost on the brink of a panic attack, but also felt grounded. 

“What the hell is wrong with me?!” Akaashi shouted, the teardrops never stopping. 

_You hurt Bokuto-san,_ he told himself as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. 

_You hurt Bokuto-san_

_You hurt Bokuto-san_

_You hurt Bokuto-san_

“—I hurt Bokuto-san.”

Akaashi hated himself. He hated what he saw in the mirror. 

He hated what he saw as he stared back at himself. 

He suddenly felt his phone go off from inside his pocket, only now just realising it had been going off all night, vibrating non-stop. 

He pulled it out, still shaking and trying to calm his breaths down. 

His twitter and instagram notifications were going crazy, just like the night when he had his first photoshoot with Kenma. 

He wondered what it could be—

_—Oh._

Akaashi stared down at the screen. 

A picture had gone viral of him and Bokuto holding hands. 

It was from four hours ago, _but how did…?_

_Oh._

Akaashi had a sudden realisation that it wasn’t Kuroo earlier, like Bokuto had said. No, it was this. 

Bokuto had known and didn’t tell him. 

He had lied to Akaashi. 

_He knew I would run away…_ Akaashi figured out. 

And really, could Akaashi blame him? Look what ended up happening anyway. 

Akaashi blinked. 

It had gone _viral._

That meant that everyone could see it. 

That meant that his _parents_ could see it…

_Oh no, not again not again not again._

Akaashi’s mind went blank, everything from tonight catching up on him. 

_Me and Bokuto kissed._

“I kissed Bokuto-san,” he spoke out loud, chest heaving. 

“I-I kissed Bokuto-san,” Akaashi sobbed. 

Because not only had he kissed Bokuto and _confessed_ to him, he had also broken a lifelong promise to himself. 

To his _parents._

The one thing that was holding him back. 

He had come to accept it himself, although it took time. 

But just like he had told Oikawa, there was just one thing tying him down. 

He thought he didn’t care. Not when he could be himself, be surrounded by his friends, by people that _actually_ loved and cared for him. 

But now that it had finally happened, not just existing in his nightmares, he was so scared. 

He was back to square one. 

He had broken a promise he made all those years ago. 

The promise he had made to his family and best friend at age twelve. 

Akaashi sunk to the floor, chest heaving and heart throbbing. 

_I will never kiss another boy again._

…

So why had he just broken that promise?

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... 
> 
> :0 


	16. When I Was A Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The broken promise...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// Homophobic references throughout this chapter.

_  
Your father came and went like the ocean's tide  
And the day he left he never said goodbye  
Your mother started drinking like the whole world died  
You've been waiting for a miracle all your life_

_Cause if the fires don't burn it down  
The rains will wash it away  
If you're looking for solid ground  
A stone will never break_

###### 

_Thirteen years ago…_

Akaashi had been running around the field with his friends for a while now. Enough time had passed to know it was getting late as the sun began to sink low in the sky, leaving luminous brush strokes of pretty colours among the blue. 

“Akaashi!” Itsuki shouted from the swing set, “I think we should go home soon.”

Akaashi looked up to where his best friend of eight years was swinging his legs back and forth, whilst he was sitting on the grass just a few metres in front of him, reading a book. 

All of their other friends had gone home an hour or so ago, claiming their parents wanted them back home for dinner. 

Akaashi was surprised his own parents had let him stay out past 5pm; but still, he didn’t argue against it, instead he revelled in the fact that his usually over the top, strict parents let him stay out two hours later than normal. 

Akaashi smiled up at the blonde, knowing he was being sensible.

“Okay then, let’s go home.” 

They had been walking side by side for around twenty minutes, the route home a half an hour walk back. Akaashi enjoyed it nevertheless, as long as it meant he could keep walking home with Itsuki, nothing else seemed to matter. 

Lately, Akaashi had been confused. 

He found himself staring at his best friend's face more and more, and made sure he was always walking as close to him as he could possibly get, both of their small arms brushing against each other. 

Sometimes, when all their friends had gone home, leaving just the two of them left, they would lay on top of the hill side by side, watching the sunset and hearing the birds chirp in the distance. 

It was only three months ago that Itsuki had looked at Akaashi and slowly intertwined their hands together in the grass.

Akaashi blushed, turning back to watch the orange orb disappear beyond the horizon. He didn’t question it. Because it had felt right. 

Akaashi wasn’t stupid. He knew that the innocent hand holding and arm brushing and secrets that both of them shared after everyone else had gone home weren’t _just friend_ things. 

But Akaashi found himself not caring. He didn’t care because he had come to realise that he liked his best friend in a crush sort of way. In the way the rest of their friends around them would play kiss chase and have crushes on each other. 

Except instead of the boys picking on the girls because they liked them and didn’t want to admit it - _something Akaashi never really understood in the first place,_ Akaashi and Itsuki just continued on being best of friends, every now and then, _more than friends_ things occurring. 

Now, walking back home, Akaashi wondered what Itsuki would do if Akaashi gave him a quick peck on the cheek, an innocent and sweet kiss goodnight. 

Akaashi was settled. He was sure Itsuki felt the same way; after all, he had been the first one to clasp their hands together on the field. 

It helped that Itsuki lived two doors down from him, and every night walking home from school or coming back home from a day out, they would both stop at the front of the house in between their own to say goodbye, before turning around to go into their own homes either side. 

It was such a small, simple thing, but for Akaashi, it was a routine that made him feel warm inside. 

Itsuki and Akaashi both slowly came to a stop, standing outside the middle house, ready to part. 

Akaashi turned around to face Itsuki, and right at this moment, Akaashi couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. 

“Akaashi, are you alri—” 

Akaashi quickly stood on his tippy toes; Itsuki being a few inches taller than him, and gave a quick, but chaste and sweet kiss on his boyish cheek. 

Akaashi lowered himself down again, this time fully looking at Itsuki, giggling at his bright red face. 

“Akaashi,” Itsuki started, “I think I like yo—” 

Although the response that Akaashi had so badly wanted to hear back, got cut off before he could finish; a loud shout taking over the peaceful evening. 

“Keiji! What on earth do you think you’re doing?!” 

He turned around, seeing his mother come storming out through the front garden of their house. 

“Mother I—”

“—No. I don’t need an explanation. Get inside right now. We’re going to have a little talk.” 

Akaashi’s face fell. 

_But why? I haven’t done anything wrong._

Those were the words that he wanted to speak, but when he looked into his mother’s grey, steely gaze, he knew that it was best if he did what she said. 

She grabbed Akaashi’s wrist, yanking her son harshly behind her. 

“And you,” Akari seethed, pointing her finger accusingly at Itsuki, “I knew you were bad for my son. Whatever this is needs to stop. I am not having you corrupt my son into your delusions.” 

Itsuki averted his eyes to the ground, threatening the tears to spill; 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Good. Now go home, I’ll be speaking to your mother soon about whether or not you and Akaashi can continue being friends.” 

“But Mother!” Akaashi said, voice wobbly, “You can’t do that. Please.” Akaashi looked up at the raven haired woman with tears spilling down his rosy cheeks. 

“I am your mother. What I say, goes.” 

Akaashi looked over to where Itsuki was still standing, not able to move.  
“Itsuki—”

“—It’s okay Akaashi,” he smiled bitterly, “Just go home, okay?” 

And with that, Itsuki turned around, head hung low as he went to return to his own home for the evening. 

“Come on,” Akari nudged her son forwards, “Go inside _now.”_

It had been around half an hour since Akaashi had been torn away from his best friend.  
He was now sitting on the sofa in his front room, hands on knees and eyes plastered to the floor. 

His mother and father were on the sofa opposite to him, and had been shouting and drilling things into him for thirty minutes straight now. 

Akaashi just wanted it to _stop._

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” Akaashi’s mother said to him, voice breaking. 

_Why is she crying?”_ Akaashi thought angrily. 

“Answer me!” 

Akaashi looked up to where his mother was shaking, and his own father was shaking his head, seething. 

“Why should I be ashamed of myself? I like him in the way my other friends have crushes, so what’s so wrong about it?” He asked innocently, looking up wide eyed. 

Akaashi’s mother was hysterically sobbing now, causing his father to take over for her as he held her against him to try and soothe her. 

“Keiji,” Kaito said, deep voice ringing throughout the house; 

“What you feel is _wrong._ Boys shouldn’t be loving other boys, it isn’t normal. It's a sin.”

Akaashi felt red wash over him. He wanted to scream and shout but he knew it would only lead to worse things. 

“Keiji, I think it’s time you should go up to your room,” Akari had finally calmed down enough to speak once more.

_You spend your nights looking at the stars  
Thinking your life would be better on mars  
Checking your pulse just to feel it beat  
Looking for a stone to keep the peace_

That night, Akaashi couldn’t sleep.

After that conversation with his parents, his mother went over to Itsuki’s to speak to his own parents about it. In the end, Akari had come back raging, screaming about how weird they were that they could just accept it.

That night, Akaashi’s mother had gone through two bottles of wine. Akaashi’s father had walked out, claiming he needed some ‘fresh air’. 

Akaashi knew he wouldn't be back until morning. 

So now he laid on his bed, staring up at his skylight window. 

His eyes were rubbed red raw, and he had tear track marks on his cheeks. He knew that he would probably never be able to see his best friend again, not if it was anything to go by his parents mumbles about finally taking that job offer up in Sendai. 

He figured that his mother would probably move after all, Akaashi’s own mistakes being the excuse. 

Akaashi focused on the stars above him. He loved that he had a window on his ceiling. Every night before he went to bed, he would whisper to the stars, talking about how his day was or anything else he had to say.

It made him feel a little less lonely at night, knowing that he was just a tiny human laying in his bed. His problems always seemed smaller, knowing that the billions of stars looking down at him, all their beautiful light shining down on him, didn’t exist anymore. 

Akaashi found that tragically beautiful. How all the stars he was seeing at this very moment, talking to every night, had already died out. 

Akaashi wondered what it would be like if he had never met Itsuki. 

That night, Akaashi curled up into himself, trying to not let his sobs be heard, making a promise to himself.

###### 

_Three years later…_

A few years had passed, and Akaashi was finally in his first year of highschool, now living in Sendai. 

Although he had to rebuild all of his friendships from the bottom, Akaashi figured it would be a fresh start. 

No more mistakes. 

Although that winter, just after Akaashi’s sixteenth birthday, Akaashi felt his whole world crash over him like a tidal wave. 

He had a friend round, both of them studying for an upcoming test; even though both of them were already in the top classes, it was just an excuse to spend more time with each other. 

Akaashi was sitting on the floor next to his chestnut haired friend, Junichi; books laid out before them all over Akaashi’s bedroom floor, soft music playing in the background.

Except they weren’t studying. 

Akaashi had his lips pressed against his friends own, moving against them sweetly.  
Junichi had his hand on Akaashi’s school tie, holding it so he could get a better angle. 

There was a knock at the door, but Akaashi didn’t notice. 

His mum came through the door, holding a tray of drinks and sweets for them. 

The tray that was now on the floor, drinks and glass shattering everywhere. 

Junichi immediately pushed himself away from Akaashi, standing up and grabbing his stuff as his mother stood shock still in the doorway. 

The thing that broke Akaashi’s heart the most however, was the fact that Junichi had spat “Freak” at him on the way out. 

Akaashi didn’t have to be sat on the sofa again, being shouted at and screamed at in the exact same way he was three years ago. 

Akaashi had broken his first promise, so at age sixteen, he made a vow to his parents that he would never kiss another boy _ever_ again. 

Akaashi’s panic attacks had become more frequent.

Instead of two bottles of wine, it was four. 

This time, when his father walked out, instead of one night, it was seven. 

And instead of Sendai, it was Saitama. 

When Akaashi laid in bed that night, there was no skylight window so that he could look up at the stars. 

That night, Akaashi didn’t cry. 

What was worth crying over anymore?

###### 

_Present…_

Akaashi didn’t dare look at his phone. 

He didn’t want to see his parents sudden texts after the monthly phone calls stopped after his photoshoot with Kenma. 

He wanted to not care. 

He knew he had come so far only to be brought back to square one. 

If Bokuto could confront his own mother when he had a worldwide reputation to hold, then why couldn't he?  
His mind kept replaying the night over and over, torturing and tormenting him. 

Akaashi was _happy._

He was painfully in love with Bokuto. 

And Bokuto loved him _back._

Bokuto was his star; the person who shone the brightest, whether it was in Akaashi’s mind or when he was in the same room as him. He was his rock that grounded him when he needed him most. 

And Akaashi meant the exact same for Bokuto too. 

He had broken his promise all those years ago. 

But this time, Akaashi felt as though it was _meant_ to be broken. 

Because it was for Bokuto. 

And Akaashi had made his own promise, without anyone else’s opinions. No, Akaashi had made his own promise to himself all those months ago when he first started at Fukurodani; 

_I am definitely never going to leave him._

_Ever._

...

_So what’s stopping me now?_

————

_Give me all your pain  
And love will set you free  
Give me all your shame  
Put all your weight on me  
And i'll be the stone that you need me to be  
And i'll be the stone that you need me to be_

_~ Stone, Jaymes Young_

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akari (Akaashi's mother) -Red pear tree
> 
> Kaito (Akaashi's father) - Between pear trees
> 
> Itsuki (Akaashi's childhood best friend/crush) - Timber tree
> 
> Junichi (Akaashi's friend/potential boyfriend) - An obedient son
> 
> idk why most of them relate to trees,, i just found it fitting ajldjadj
> 
> \- Bon 💜


	17. Don't Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (⊙_⊙;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write smut for the life of me im very very truly sorry in advance

__

__

Hold  
Hold on  
Hold on to me  
'Cause I'm a little unsteady  
A little unsteady

__

__

__

Hold  
Hold on  
Hold on to me  
'Cause I'm a little unsteady  
A little unsteady

__

__

__

If you love me, don't let go  
If you love me, don't let go

__

__

__

_~ Unsteady, X Ambassadors  
_

__

__  


###### 

_one day ago…(Monday June 2nd)_

Kenma had a more peaceful sleep than what he could have imagined when he lay curled up into Kuroo the night before. The warmth and comfort of knowing Kuroo was hugging him close and not walking out, _running away,_ from one of their arguments like all the hundreds of times in their past, meant something to Kenma. 

Last night had been one of their worst arguments, with Kuroo coming home drunk and Kenma finally admitting everything out in the open as well as Kuroo confronting his own feelings. But for Kuroo to not leave him - for Kuroo to actually stay with him through the night as he sobbed and clutched his shirt, meant more to Kenma than he thought it ever would. 

Perhaps because he thought it never would happen. 

Kenma blinked his eyes open, a shiver going through him from the loss of warmth beside him. He sat up, fists rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawned loudly. 

He didn't want to think that Kuroo had somehow woken up in the middle of the night without Kenma knowing, only to slip away and leave him once again. No, he couldn’t think that, not after Kuroo kept him close all night. 

So why did Kenma feel this strong urge to throw up at the thought of walking down the hall, only to be found with an empty house? 

“Hey pudding, ar—” 

“Kuro!” Kenma shouted, jumping out of his skin, nearly falling out of the bed in the process. 

He hadn’t even heard the sound of the models footsteps coming down the hall, let alone see him standing in the doorway. 

Kuroo raised an eyebrow, grin plastering his face. He was wearing maroon coloured sweatpants, with a loose fitting black shirt, and his usual rooster hair looked even more dishevelled and ‘bed headed’ than normal. 

Although Kenma realised he probably looked even worse, considering how groggy he felt. His eyes felt like sandpaper, and his cheeks were sticky from laying on his tear soaked pillow. 

“I thought you left in the night,” Kenma admitted in a small voice; not bearing to look Kuroo in the eye, so averted his gaze downwards and started to pick at the loose threads of the duvet. 

Kenma felt the weight on the other side of the bed shift, and suddenly found himself being smothered in Kuroos chest. 

“I meant what I said last night, pudding,” Kuroo’s deep voice rumbled through him, from where he placed his mouth buried into his two toned hair. 

“I’m not going to leave, I want to be here to stay,” he pulled away from where he was being suffocated by Kenma’s hair, instead cupped his cheeks in his hands in order to get the smaller man to look him in his eyes; 

“I want to be the most permanent thing in your life, like I should have been all those years ago.” 

Kenma felt his eyes sting; “K-Kuro.” 

Kuroo softly smiled at him; “That reminds me! I have to leave in about twenty minutes for work before Yaku kicks my ass for being ONE minute late again, but there’s something I want to show you first.” 

He stood up, holding his hand out for Kenma to help him up off the bed, to which Kenma surprisingly accepted instead of batting it out of the way jokingly like he normally would. 

Kenma padded behind the taller male, his bare feet relishing in the softness of the carpet as he followed Kuroo through to the living room. 

Kenma noticed there was an empty cup of coffee on the table, along with a laptop open sitting next to it. 

Kenma wondered just how long Kuroo had been up. 

He sat down, patting the space next to him in order to get Kenma to sit there. Kuroo turned so his whole body was facing the gamer, and took a deep breath. 

Kenma was getting nervous at the fact Kuroo had to pause to steel himself, but he could tell it wasn’t anything really bad, otherwise the annoying rooster wouldn’t have such a soft smile plastered to his face. 

Excited, but nervous. 

“So,” Kuroo finally started, “the reason why I want to show you this is because I want to go back to how we were. I want to go back to how we were the night before the car accident,” he looked at Kenma, wondering if he should carry on or not. 

When Kenma just nodded, swallowing in anticipation, he continued. 

“I want to be able to hold your hand, I want to be able to kiss you, and do all those cute, cheesy and cliche things we used to do.” 

Kuroo had a blush creeping up his neck now, and Kenma was no different, if so even redder. 

“So, this morning I sat down and done some research. A new, fresh start. I want to make a change, a change for the good. And if I want this to work, I know I have to work on my own problems.”

He turned the laptop screen around so it was facing Kenma. 

Kenma took one glance at it before opening his mouth to cut through; “Kuro, you—”

Kuroo immediately started shaking his head, “No no, I want to. I need to if I want to change. To make _us_ work.” 

Kenma smiled at Kuroo in a soft way;

“Okay, only if you’re one hundred percent sure.” 

Kuroo nodded, “It’s for the best. This way, not only will I be getting better at drinking, I’ll be able to confront problems instead of running away. I did thorough research, and I never knew there were so many different types of therapists. I chose the best one for me which is the self guidance therapist which deals with past trauma and mental health, so that includes stuff like bad habits such as drinking that people use to escape.”

Kenma reached forward, and took hold of Kuroo’s hand, squeezing it gently. 

“It’s a two year programme, and I have a session booked weekly every wednesday night. Hopefully, by me getting professional help, I won’t take it out on you anymore. Also I'm glad we both said to each other how we truly felt last night, I don’t think i’d be sitting here, signing up for this right now if you didn’t put me in my place.” 

Kenma gave a slight smirk at that, “When don’t I put you in your place?” 

“Excuse me?!” Kuroo gasped, feigning hurt. 

After their dying down chuckles of laughter, Kenma blushed when he found Kuroo staring at him with a loving glint in his eyes. 

“Really Kenma, what do you say? Would you do me the honour of being my boyfriend again?” Kuroo went wide eyed after the words came out of his mouth, “N-Not that you have to say yes or anything! Me getting better is going to take s-some time so I really understand if yo—” 

Kenma cut off his stupid rambling, instead pullng him down by his shirt collar to press his lips against his. 

This wasn’t a foreign feeling. Kenma and Kuroo had kissed plenty of times before.

What was foreign however, after years worth of it being kept inside, pushed away and hidden from each other, was their undiluted love and care for one another. 

Kuroo eagerly moved his lips against Kenmas own soft ones for a few more seconds before pulling away. 

Kenma slowly opened his eyes, hand still holding his shirt as he looked at Kuroo; “Does that answer your question?” 

Kuroo’s cheeks set aflame, “Y-Yes.”

Kenma pulled back causally, as if a life changing thing that he had wanted himself for years hadn’t just happened. 

Truth was he was still trying to process this unrelenting force of joy and content in his heart. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting dressed for work?” 

Kuroo’s eyes went wider than they had that morning. 

Shooting off the sofa, running to the bedroom with a resounding “FUCK” echoing throughout the penthouse. 

Kenma giggled.

###### 

_Present (Tuesday June 3rd)..._

It had been two days since Kuroo sat him down and had a real conversation with him about their relationship and future. Also about Kuroo’s own mental health; Kenma was shocked when he said he was going to see a therapist. 

After Kuroo met up with him that Monday during his lunch break, Kenma cried happy tears into his chest. 

Kenma was worried that Kuroo was going to see a therapist for the sake of it, but Kenma knew he truly was doing it for his own benefit to get better, and for their relationship. 

Kenma knew that it wasn’t a one way street either; he would also have to open up about his feelings instead of hiding them. 

Now here they were, Tuesday night, cuddling each other on the couch whilst watching a god awful romance film. 

Much to Kenma’s dismay, from the moment the movie had started, Kuroo had not been able to stop fidgeting. 

And it was driving Kenma _insane._

“Kuro, please stop moving so much,” he said with a sigh. 

For the next ten minutes, Kuroo had stopped being antsy. 

Then it started again. 

Kenma sighed, looking over to where he was pressed close to him; “Kuro what's the ma—” 

It wasn’t until Kenma fully looked at Kuroo that he noticed his predicament. 

Kenma went wide eyed, a flush colouring his cheeks with a small “oh” leaving his lips as he looked at Kuroo’s own bright red face, cushion held over his crotch. 

“Kenma, i’m so sorry but—”

In the next second, Kenma had thrown the pillow off of Kuroo’s lap, climbing to sit there and replace it instead; 

“Shut up,” and with that, leant down to smash their lips together. 

Kuroo pressed forward into the kiss, deciding he wanted more. He ran his tongue across the seam of Kenma’s bottom lip, biting it in order to try and deepen their kiss.

Kenma parted his lips without hesitance, licking into his mouth with enthusiasm. Kuroo let out a small hum, bucking his hips up in order to get some friction between them. 

Kenma let out a moan at that, pressing his own hips down in retaliation. 

The youtuber chose to break away from the kiss then, moving his hands up to hold himself up on Kuroo’s shoulders, both of them heavily breathing and trying to catch their breaths. 

“I cannot believe you got hard watching a cringey romance film,” Kenma said, looking down at Kuroo in disbelief, his eyes scrunching up. 

“Hey! They're cute and in love okay?! And when they started getting hot and heavy it just reminded me how much I wanted to do it with you, and how lucky I am to finally have you,” Kuroo mumbled the last part, embarrassed.

“How romantic,” Kenma deadpanned, although the blush lighting up his face said otherwise. 

Kuroo let out a chuckle at the other man’s antics, his smug demeanour coming back when he saw the amused glint in the gamers eyes. 

“I try my best,” he said, placing his hands on Kenma’s hips, holding them in place as he slowly grinded upwards once, twice, before leaning forward and whispering into Kenma’s ear in a deep voice; 

“...Want to go and finish what we started all those years ago?” whilst nipping on the lobe of his ear. 

“K-Kuroo” Kenma moaned the loudest yet, rolling his hips to meet Kuroo’s; wanting more and more friction, heat building up. 

Kuroo chuckled lowly, the vibrations sending shudders from where Kenma could feel him against his own chest. 

“I take that as a yes then,” he stood up with Kenma in his arms, the smaller man wrapping his legs around his waist, the model trying as best he could to quickly get them to the bedroom without getting distracted along the way. 

Kuroo walked down the hallway, kicking the door open with no free arms to open it, and made his way over to the bed, gently placing Kenma down on it. 

“Kuro, you can be more rough with me, I'm not going to break,” Kenma said, surprised at the sudden change in atmosphere. 

Kuroo paused taking his shirt off half way, arms above his head as he looked down at the man below him with loving eyes. 

“I know you’re not by any means, but I want to take my time with you tonight, if that’s okay.” 

He finished taking off his shirt, throwing it somewhere across the room. 

Kuroo positioned himself so he was kneeling either side of Kenma, who was laying with his back against the bed, looking up wide eyed at Kuroo in anticipation as he leaned down to get closer. 

“I want to go slow with you,” the rooster haired man said, placing his palms so they were flat against Kenma’s pale skin, moving them upwards underneath his shirt until it was all bunched up just below his collar bones.

Kenma shivered at the feeling of Kuroo’s large hands against his bare skin. 

“I want to taste every inch of you.” 

Kenma moaned, throwing his head back against the pillow as Kuroo took one of his nipples into his mouth, sucking at it whilst he used his fingers to play with the other, more neglected one. 

“Kuro!” Kenma squeezed his eyes shut, moving his hands so they were gripping the models already messy hair. 

“Kitten,” Kuroo moaned, the vibrations causing him to roll his hips up into Kuroo’s yet again. 

He removed his mouth from its place, looking down at Kenma dead into his eyes, a serious expression set on his face in an instant. 

Kenma thought he almost looked...hesitant? 

“Kenma, if you don’t want to do this, I understand, I don’t want to rush this,” he finished, trying to hold himself back. 

Kenma softened as he saw how serious Kuroo was being. 

_God,_ how much he loved him. 

Kenma knew one hundred percent right there and then that he wanted nothing more than to be absolutely wrecked by this man.

“Tetsurou,” Kenma said softly, cupping the model’s burning cheek with his hand, rubbing soothing circles into it;

”Yes, I’m completely sure. You’re not going to rush anything. You want this, and so do I, more than anything.” 

Kuroo nodded, his eyes becoming slightly watery. He tilted his head to place a feather light kiss to where Kenma’s hand was resting against his face, eyes briefly closing. 

Kenma felt himself melt at the gesture. 

He pulled himself back, using his hands to push himself up against the broader man's chest, in order to get him to sit up so he could move them. 

Before Kuroo knew it, he had been flipped around. Now he was the one laying on his back against the soft sheets, Kenma on top of him. 

Kenma stared down at him, his molten gold eyes piercing through him. 

“Let me be the one who takes care of you tonight.”

He started by running his hands over the bottom of Kuroo’s strong calves, before moving them up to curve on the inside of Kuroo’s thighs. 

Kuroo sighed, feeling relaxed under his kitten's warm touch. 

That was until he felt Kenma’s smooth ministrations stop, and lifted his head up to see what the pudding haired man was doing. 

What he saw however, caused Kuroo to whisper his name in breathless anticipation;

“Kenma,” 

Kenma had removed his hands from his thighs, instead moving his face back down so his lips were hovering just in front of his calves. 

Kuroo knew exactly what he was staring at. 

Kenma looked up to where he could feel Kuroo’s relentless gaze on him. Ever so slowly, he traced the pad of his finger tip along the thin, pink raised skin that were littered across Kuroo’s calves in lines. 

Kenma knew Kuroo had plenty of scars from that night, but he had never seen any of them for as long as this; albeit only for a few seconds when Kuroo took off his sweats to get into bed or getting dressed for work in the morning. 

He also knew that Kuroo did whatever he could to hide them. 

He was going to change that. 

Kenma dragged his tongue across the scar, lightly tracing it from beginning to end, Kuroo’s stuttering breaths never ending before him. 

Once he stopped tracing them, Kenma placed opened mouthed kisses along every single scar that was marked upon the models calves, from start to finish. Kenma looked up to find Kuroo’s half lidded eyes on him. He suspected they never left him once. 

Kenma crawled back up so he was straddling Kuroo’s lap, and leant down to meet him in a deep kiss yet again. After tongues tangling long enough to stop for breath, Kenma saw the devotion in Kuroo’s eyes. 

All of it directed towards _him._

Kenma would be lying if it didn’t scare him. 

But he also knew that without a doubt, he felt the exact same towards Kuro. 

“You’re beautiful,” Kenma said as he bought his hand up to brush the one side of Kuroo’s bangs up, soft black hair threading through his fingers as he pushed it back, leaving Kuroo’s forehead on display. 

Kenma leant forward to press a soft, lingering kiss over the indented scar that was always hidden by where Kuroo’s bangs were. Of course kenma knew it was hidden there. 

He pulled back to look at Kuroo, and thought that it was getting harder and harder for them to not tear their gazes away from each other. 

"I don't want to hurt you," Kuroo murmured, brown eyes glistening in the starlight filtering in from the window. 

Kenma reached forward, holding one of the models hands up to his face, pressing soft kisses to each fingertip. 

"You won't." 

Kuroo's heart warmed when he saw how sure Kenma was when he answered him. 

"Am… Am I your first?" Kuroo whispered.

Kenma stopped playing with Kuroo's hands and looked him dead in the eyes instead, placing his own palms on Kuroo's chest. 

"Yes." 

Kenma didn't miss the way Kuroo's eyes went wide, whether that was a good or bad thing he thought, he didn't know. 

But Kenma was itching to know if there had been anyone for Kuroo too, regardless if it was just a one night stand. 

"What about you?" He asked unsurely.

Kuroo propped himself more upwards against the headboard, just enough so he could lean forward to press a wet, open mouthed kiss on the man before him. 

"You're my first too. It was, _still is,_ only ever you I've wanted, even if I had to wait a lifetime to be with you." 

Kenma's eyes blew wide, not expecting Kuroo to have waited all those years. 

Kuroo’s hands were suddenly on Kenma, lifting his shirt up and over the pudding haired man to fully get it off and throw it across the room, discarded along with Kuroo’s own on the floor somewhere. 

Next, both of their sweats came off, leaving just both of them in their briefs. 

Their hands and lips never once left each other, tracing over the muscles on their stomach and chests, leaving marks and bites along one another necks that would still be there days after. 

That night as Kenma rocked on top of kuroo as he thrusted up into him to match his pace, both of them whispered into the dusk their love for each other. As the need for more built higher and higher, both of them shouted each other's names as they came. 

“Kenma,” Kuroo murmured into his hair, holding him close.

“Tetsu,” Kenma sighed softly from where he was buried into the models chest; 

“Please don’t let go of me.” 

Kuroo wrapped his arms around Kenma even tighter, the covers shielding them from the outside world. 

“Never, Kitten.”

###### 

Both of them woke up to a very loud and insistent knocking on the penthouse door. 

Kuroo groaned, nuzzling into Kenma further, not wanting to face whoever was knocking at their door. 

He had just had the best night of his life, only to be woken up by a visitor at their door and not going away? _No thank you._

“Kuro,” Kenma murmured sleepily, “We have to answer it.” 

“Ughhhh.” He rolled over to check the time; 

00:43 

_Oh,_ Kuroo thought, _I thought it was much later than that._

But still, whoever it was who was still banging their door down, had some nerve…

Or maybe Kuroo was just pressed and angrier than normal because whoever was at the door, had the worst timing of the century. 

As Kuroo got up, he reached over to the floor to put his boxers and sweatpants on for good measure, before leaving the bedroom to make his way over to the front door. 

Kuroo’s mind kept replaying the scenes from a few hours ago, and blushed at the thought of it all. 

He reached out, door handle cold against the warmth of his palm, thinking about how the quicker he dealt with this person, the quicker he could get back into bed and snuggle up with Kenma. 

Although that thought got halted as soon as the door was wide open, and he saw who was standing there. 

His best friend in the whole entire world, who was standing there, arm dropping by his side as he went to knock one last time. 

Bokuto, who was standing here at just past midnight, eyes rubbed red raw, tear marks staining his cheeks, hair uncharacteristically hanging half up and down, almost as if hands had been tugging relentlessly at it, and worst of all, he was quiet. 

Trembling, even though it was summer, and so _so_ quiet. 

Without a word, Kuroo moved to the side, allowing Bokuto in. 

Although as Kuroo shut the door and went to turn around to go make drinks, Kuroo stopped as he saw Bokuto hadn’t gone to sit down on the couch. 

Instead, he was just standing in the hallway to the door, hands in his raincoat pockets, eyes looking down to the floor, tears threatening to spill once more. 

Kuroo felt a sudden wave of anger wash over him, who dare hurt Bokuto like this? 

“Hey bo,” Kuroo started in a soft tone, taking one step closer to his best friend, “What happened?” 

Bokuto didn’t answer him. Instead he kept his gaze still plastered to the floor, this time  
round a sound almost like a wounded animal escaping his lips.

He was trying so hard to not look at Kuroo. 

As soon as Kuroo heard that sound akin to a _whimper_ leave Bokuto’s mouth, he knew he couldn’t just stand there and stare, so he stepped forward to encase Bokuto in a strong hug. 

Bokuto buried his face into Kuroo’s neck, arms clamping around him in a vice-like grip to keep him close. What was worse however, was the heart wrenching sobs leaving Bokuto’s mouth, tears soaking Kuroo’s neck. 

He had never seen Bokuto so heartbroken before. 

"Kuro, who—" Kenma stopped in the entryway to the front room when he heard Bokuto first, before he saw him and Kuroo clinging to each other. 

Kuroo saw him from over Bokuto's shoulder, and gave the gamer a soft smile before Kenma nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. 

After ten minutes of Kenma making hot chocolate and Kuroo finally getting Bokuto to calm down enough in order to sit down, they all sat in their respective places in front of the cold fire place. 

Bokuto was looking at the floor again, hands clutching around the warmth of the mug in his hands. The silence between them all was deafening. 

Surprisingly after ten minutes of no one saying a word, it was Kenma who spoke up first.

"Bokuto," he spoke in a soothe, calm voice; "what happened?" And even though Kenma asked him that, he had a fair idea of what must have happened. 

He looked over to Kuroo, who was looking at him in the way of which his eyes said _'please no'._

Bokuto's hands shook around the mug as he finally spoke up for the first time that night, his voice coming out in a broken rasp. 

"I messed up," he tried to not let his tears spill as he stared at his reflection in his drink. "I messed up _so bad."_

Kenma and Kuroo looked at each other with worry etched on all their features. 

"I don't want to go to work anymore either. Why should I when he clearly doesn't want to see me." 

"Bokuto," Kuroo started "did something happen with Akaashi?" Bokuto winced as soon as the assistants name was uttered in the space between them. 

"I fucked up," Bokuto kept mumbling, rocking back and forth from where he was sitting on the edge of the opposite sofa. 

"Can you tell us what happened?" Kenma said quietly, trying not to scare the visibly heartbroken man before him away.

Bokuto stopped rocking then, and instead looked up to meet Kenma's eyes for the first time that night, his own ones suddenly overcome with a flash of anger. 

Kenma tried his hardest to not look away; he knew that the anger wasn't directed at him, no, Bokuto was angry at _himself._ Especially if it was anything to go by the way he placed his mug on the glass table with a clunk and drew his hands into fists above his knees. 

“Akaashi k-kissed me.” 

Kuroo’s and Kenma’s eyes blew wide open. They didn't think Bokuto was going to come out with _that._ Then the confusion settled in. 

“Bo, why are you this upset over Akaashi kissing you? If anything, that was the one thing you _wanted_ to happen, right?” Kuroo noted.

Bokuto shook his head frantically, as if what Kuroo was saying was all wrong. “No no no, it’s all my fault, I made Akaashi run away from me. Just like all those other times in the past…” 

He looked up to where Kuroo and Kenma were sitting next to each other, eyes watery; “I really do have bad luck with assistants huh?” a bitter chuckle escaped his lips. 

Kenma shook his head, “No Bokuto, that’s all their faults for leaving. Don’t you ever blame yourself for pathetic people's mistakes.” 

After Kenma finished his sentence, Akaashi’s voice surfaced in the back of his mind, remembering that night he saw Bokuto for the first time in one of his slumps; 

_‘Not all those absolutely pathetic assistants that left you in the past.’_

_‘I’m not ever going to leave you. I’m here to stay.’_

_The irony of it all..._ Bokuto thought, trying to get those ocean blue eyes out of his head. 

“There’s something you’re not telling us, Bo. We can help you if you tell us everything that happened tonight.”

Bokuto knew Kuroo was right. He knew that what Kenma said was also true. He needed to tell them what happened tonight in order to know what to do next. Afterall, they were his two best friends he always went to when he was down. 

“Me and Akaashi went to go grab dinner together after work, but we ended up just running about and doing all the fun stupid things and going to places that are still open this time of night,” he started shakily. 

“Then we realised we left our raincoats at work and because I had the key, we decided to go back and get them.” Bokuto looked up from the carpet as he told the next part of his story. 

“That’s when I started saying such stupid things and I don’t know why but I’m so, so— _argh!!”_ Bokuto swept his hands through his hair once more in frustration. 

Kenma looked at him worriedly before speaking up; “Bokuto it’s okay, take your time.” 

Once Bokuto slowly nodded and let his hands drop from his hair, he carried on recounting the events of what happened a few hours ago. 

“I started to say these _weird_ things and—” 

“What like coming onto him and flirty things?” 

“— _Yes,_ Kuroo, flirty things.”

“Sorry sorry, carry on.” 

Bokuto sighed. “I practically told him I liked him and then we went to kiss but he kissed me first and then we nearly had sex but we didn’t because—” 

“—Woah woah woah! _Bokuto!_ You can’t just say you two nearly had _sex_ and then carry on as if you’re just reading an article out loud!”

The owl-like man narrowed his eyes at his best friend then; “Dude! I literally told you that I told him I liked him, he kissed me, and it started getting really like, you know...hot and heavy” 

Kuroo and Kenma blushed at the same time whilst looking at Bokuto when he finished his sentence. Bokuto wasn’t stupid. 

“And then he just kinda, threw himself off of me when it all started getting a little _too much._ That’s when I said ‘are you going to leave me,’ and stupid things that made him run away.” 

He looked up and found Kuroo and Kenma both staring at him as if he was insane. 

Despite his existential crisis he was going through right at this moment, Bokuto felt mildly offended. 

“What?!” He squawked at them. 

“Nothing nothing!” Both of them said simultaneously, blinking away their stares. 

“It’s obviously something if you’re both looking at me like that,” Bokuto mumbled grumpily, arms crossed and sliding down the back of the sofa, pout on his face. 

“Just…” Kuroo chose his words carefully; “Are you sure there's something you’re not telling us?”

Kenma nodded, further adding onto Kuroo’s point, “I don’t think Akaashi is the type of person just to up and go because he stopped kissing you and you started talking about your past.” 

“Kenma!” Kuroo berated. 

“What,” Kenma shrugged, “that’s what you were thinking.”

Kuroo sighed, exasperated; but Kenma was spot on.

After a few minutes of silence filling the penthouse, Bokuto spoke up once more. 

“...Maybe Akaashi left because he told me he’s in love with me and said he couldn’t be with me so I told him to break my heart anyways and he got scared and left…” 

Kenma spat out his drink; the hot chocolate spray going all over Kuroo’s shirt whilst Kuroo just sat there with his mouth gaping open, eyes wide. 

“He _what?!!”_ Kuroo shouted. 

Kenma placed his mug down, and just sat there, almost as if Akaashi professing his love to Bokuto didn’t shock him just now. 

“Kyanma! You could act more surprised!” 

Kenma restrained his smile as best as he could at Kuroo’s high pitched squeal of his name. 

“Mhm, I think we all saw this coming.” He looked to his left at Kuroo; “You’re so dumb if you can’t see how in love Akaashi is with Bokuto. The reason why I spat out my drink was because I thought it would take them both years to actually do something about it.” 

“Wait, you knew?!” Bokuto yelped. 

Kenma shrugged for the second time that night, going to lean back on the couch; “He didn’t tell me explicitly, but I could piece all the things together and that’s how I knew. It was entertaining but _so tiring_ watching you two dance around each other for months.” 

Kenma scrunched his nose up, almost as if seeing his two best friends disgustingly in love and in denial was the worst thing he ever had to witness. 

“Oh says you, you and Kuroo very obviously slept together.” 

Kenma flinched, surprised at Bokuto’s sudden change in demeanor, whilst Kuroo rubbed the back of his nape shyly, both of them bright red and flustered. 

Bokuto softly smiled at them; “Well it was about damn time. I’m really happy for you, congrats.” Then in a more depressed mumble; “If I wasn’t in such a mess myself I would be popping out the sake…” 

Kuroo and Kenma let out a quiet laugh at that, happy they could make Bokuto smile for the first time since he came to the penthouse, even if it was to do with their own relationship and happiness. 

“Pudding, care to explain and enlighten us with your knowledge about Akaashi liking Bo?” 

Bokuto was suddenly on the edge of his seat, perking up at hearing anything that could possibly help him in sorting whatever this mess was and just getting his best friend and assistant back. 

Yes, it would hurt to just go back to normal after all these months and after what took place tonight, but Bokuto was more than willing to sacrifice that if it meant he just got his best friend back. 

Even if Akaashi did love him back…

_No, I can't ruin this relationship any more than I have._

“Well,” Kenma started, tucking his feet up underneath him, “I didn’t want to get involved since it was none of my business, but it was kind of easy to piece it all together with the way you just look at each other.”

Kuroo smirked at this, causing Bokuto to bow his head in embarrassment. 

“It wasn’t that noticeable if me and Akaashi were oblivious for this long,” Bokuto mumbled grouchily. 

_Silence._

Silence filled the room as soon as Bokuto finished his sentence. 

Kuroo suddenly burst out cackling, his loud, rambunctious and uncontainable laughter filling up every crevice of the penthouse; Kenma’s snickers following soon after. 

“Shut up!” Bokuto screeched, not impressed. 

“But seriously though,” Kuroo cut through their joking about, “Akaashi said he’s in love with you, that’s a pretty big deal,” he whistled, finishing his sentence. 

“I think he knows that, Kuro.” 

“I know that! I’m just saying, what’s your next move? Especially if the reason why he left is because of his own problems...but surely if he loved you as much as he says and acts like he does, then couldn’t he put that all aside and be with you?”

Kuroo took a breath of air and glanced at Kenma, to find the shorter man already staring at him in awe before turning back round to face Bokuto opposite him. 

“Look, obviously none of us know why Akaashi left tonight, and I know that if he’s fighting his own demons, it’s easier said than done; trust me, I know. We _all_ know. But surely, you two could be happy and work through his problems _together._ He was there for you and did not so much as falter, let alone leave during your slumps, and was also there for you throughout your whole mum fiasco! What makes you think he’s going to leave you over a little comment because you were scared?” 

Bokuto was dumbfounded when Kuroo spoke his last sentence. He honestly, truly, did not know what to say or how to answer. 

Good job Kenma answered for him. 

The gamer got up off the couch, and despite it being 1:23 in the morning, he was suddenly a man on a mission and knew what he had to do. 

“Pudding, where are you going?” Kuroo asked curiously as Kenma was shrugging a light jacket over his shoulders, just to keep the early morning chill and rain off. 

“I know for a fact Akaashi is still up because he left my latest text on read. He’s alone too right now, and just as depressed as Bokuto, if not even worse.” 

Kuroo smiled softly, thinking about how Kenma had come to care for Akaashi, and the fact of how he was going out of his way for someone at this time of the morning, meant a lot.

It’s not the fact Kenma didn’t care, more so the fact that Kenma never really opened up to anyone, yet found another person he could be close and comfortable with through Akaashi. 

“Kenma, you really don’t have to,” Bokuto sat up straight, grateful, but nervous if Kenma was actually about to go over to Akaashi’s place for him…”What are you even going to say to him? I should be the one going over there, not you doing my dirty work for me,” Bokuto finished. 

“Don’t be stupid Bokuto. I’m going over there to speak to him about why he’s acting the way he is, especially if he admitted to you how he truly feels.” 

Kenma finished tying up his shoes, and padded his way over to the door. As his hand reached out for the doorknob, he turned his head to look over his shoulder, staring Bokuto dead in the eyes with his cat-like gleam. 

“Besides,” Kenma smiled, “I’m doing it as your friend. Your’s and Akaashi both.” And with that, the last sound Kuroo and Bokuto heard from him was of the door clicking shut behind him. 

Bokuto sighed shakily, wringing his hands together and looking down at the floor once more. 

“Bo, don’t worry. Kenma’s either going to kick some sense into him, softly get an answer out of him so you two can kiss and make up, or both.” 

Bokuto huffed out a laugh, “Yeah, that’s what i’m scared of.” 

Kuroo’s eyes softened; 

“It’s all going to be okay, Bokuto.”

###### 

_Fifteen minutes later, outside Akaashi’s apartment complex…_

Kenma looked up at the tall building, hands stuffed into his pockets in order to keep them from twitching nervously. He impulsively made the decision to come here on his own terms, for not only Bokuto’s sake, but for Akaashi’s, too. 

It wasn’t until Kenma actually arrived outside Akaashi’s building that he looked up to see most of the lights out for the night when he felt that all too familiar sinking feeling in his gut. He didn't want to intrude on Akaashi’s personal life, especially if Akaashi acted so strangely with Bokuto earlier. 

_Something must be really wrong..._ Kenma’s mind nagged at him. 

_It didn’t sound like Akaashi at all…_

Of course Akaashi acted nervous sometimes, Kenma suffered from anxiety too. That’s a reason why they clicked so well when they first met - they understood each other. They could confide in each other without feeling stupid. Someone that _understood._

So for Kenma to just turn up and out of the blue like this, well, it had him rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he stared up past the complex, and into the dark clouds that covered Tokyo. 

And he certainly knew that having visitors was the last thing the assistant could possibly want right now, if it was anything to go by how Bokuto was acting; he definitely knew he was going to find Akaashi in a worse predicament. 

Steeling himself, Kenma’s chest slowly heaved inwards than outwards, taking in the deep breath he was sure he would need. 

He walked in through the doors to the ground lobby, before looking at the stairs, and elevator next to them. 

_Yep,_ Kenma thought, _definitely taking the lift._

Before he knew it, Kenma was standing directly outside of Akaashi's door, giving a loud rasp against the wood. 

He knew better than to expect Akaashi to open up the door straight away. But this was all getting a bit too out of hand.

“Akaashi, it’s me, open up,” Kenma said fairly loudly, trying to be mindful of the neighbours at this time of morning. 

No answer. 

“Akaashi, please, I know you’re in there because I can hear your footsteps, I just want to talk.”

After one more minute of nothing, not even the shuffling sound of slight footsteps, Kenma was still determined to get through to Akaashi before heading home tonight. 

_Well, looks like I'm sleeping in the corridor,_ Kenma thought amusedly as he slid his back down Akaashi’s door, sitting against it until the assistant finally opened up. 

Little did he know of the raven that had mirrored his own action, albeit on the other side. 

“Look Akaashi, I'm not mad at you. I just want to know the reason why. _Why_ you did that to Bokuto. You know where he is right now? He’s back at the penthouse in a slump, turned up at midnight just to confide in Kuroo.”

Meanwhile on the other side of the door, Akaashi hugged his knees tight to his chest, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to expel his own thoughts. 

“Just—you know how Bokuto gets, why would you go through all of that with him, if it were only to end up like this? It just doesn’t make _sense,_ Akaashi.” Kenma began to feel his fists tighten by his sides, frustration at the whole situation and what it hadn't been for far too long.

He had known since that day back at the coffee shop, even at the restaurant when Akaashi was still new to the whole assistant thing, that he was hiding something: he just couldn't piece together what. 

Until now. 

But still—he wanted to hear it from Akaashi’s side too. 

“Why would you tell him you love him if you were going to run away? Why tell him you love him back, only for you to _hurt_ him like that?” 

Kenma heard a thud against the wood behind him. He knew Akaashi had been there the whole entire time. 

“Please Kenma, s-stop,” Akaashi faintly whispered from inside the apartment. 

Kenma knew he would end up hating himself by the end of the morning; “Stop what? Stop telling the truth?”

“You wouldn't understand!” Akaashi cried out. 

Kenma’s knees clicked as he stood up, turning around to face the door and place his palm against the cool wood. “Then make me understand. Please Akaashi, I’m begging you; I’m here as your friend.” 

Kenma thought it was a lost battle. If he couldn’t get through to Akaashi now, then he didn’t think he would ever be able to. 

That was until he heard the click of the door, slowly opening ajar. 

Akaashi stood there, a few steps away from where the door had been weakly swung open. 

Kenma's eyes widened as he took the assistant's appearance in. He was in black joggers and a long sleeved gray top, hanging loosely off his frame, cuffs swallowing his hands. 

But it was the tear tracks and red rimmed eyes that caught Kenma's attention the most. 

The red raw skin and wetness of eyes that perfectly matched Bokuto's back at home. 

Kenma's words suddenly died in his throat. Now what? Akaashi had finally opened them door and now Kenma was at loss as of what to do next.

Akaashi sniffed, bringing his sleeve cuffs up to wipe at his nose. Slowly walking into his apartment, he shut the door quietly behind him. 

Kenma wasn't good at this. He never had been. Even when he and Kuroo were younger, he was never good at reassuring words, that was Kuroo's speciality.

_Come on Kenma, think._

Next thing he knew, he and Akaashi were on the floor, Kenma's arms wrapped tight around Akaashi and the assistant held his grip, clutching onto Kenma's hoodie for purchase.

"I'm sorry, i’m s-so sorry," Akaashi sobbed, tears making the red fabric turn maroon, "I b-broke the one promise I made, I broke _yours and Kuroo's_ promise." 

Kenma hugged Akaashi closer, _it's not your fault._

"I think it's time you should tell your story," Kenma said, pulling away from Akaashi to look at him. "I mean, you've ready told Oikawa, so what's the harm in telling me ?" 

Akaashi stopped crying at that, surprised at Kenma's sudden humour to try and lighten the situation. 

Akaashi huffed out a wet laugh, rubbing his eyes; "I suppose you're right." 

"Look, I know you're scared, but there comes a time where if you carry on like this, there'll be no resolving it." 

The fear glistening in Akaashi's teal eyes was palpable. Kenma could feel the whole room tense up at his words. 

"It's a long story…" 

"It's already 2am." 

Kenma’s bluntness cut through Akaashi, making him shiver. He knew that there was no getting out of it, especially with Kenma here.

_Come on Keiji, Kenma is your best friend. You already told Oikawa, you can tell him._

Akaashi took a deep breath, preparing himself to tell his story for the second time, only this time round, would change his life forever.

###### 

"...and thats why I walked out on Bokuto. I can't _be_ with him Kenma; we're just not meant to be." 

Kenma was stunned. How could this man possibly think that him and Bokuto were not meant to be together? 

"You’re so stupid." 

"What?" 

Kenma didn't hold back; "You're so stupid to even _consider_ thinking that you and Bokuto aren't meant to be together. Literally everyone around you just wants you two to be together already." 

"W-what? That's not true." Akaashi spoke hesitantly.

"Akaashi," Kenma sighed, "answer me this: If you and Bokuto weren't meant to be, then why are you tearing yourself apart over it? You really think that if you two _weren't_ meant to be, you'd be sitting here this upset right now? With Bokuto back at mine and Kuroo's, _destroying himself,_ if you really think you weren't meant to be together?!" Kenma's voice raised as he finished speaking. 

"I-" 

"Bullshit." 

"But Kenma, my p-parents, I can't be with him." 

"You said that the only reason why you walked out that night was out of fear of your parents right? Especially since you know now Bokuto's career and fanbase won't be affected." 

"Well yeah, if my parents found out, I don't know what'd I'd do," Akaashi whispered, winding his hands together and looking down into his lap. 

"Do you love him?" 

"Huh?" Akaashi's head whipped back up.

"I said, do you love him?" 

Akaashi bit his lip, trying his best to not let the tears run. 

"More than anything." 

Kenma smiled for the first time that night. "Then who gives a fuck what your parents think? I hate them for the way they treated you all those years ago, those monthly phone calls from your mother mean _nothing,_ Keiji." 

Akaashi knew Kenma was right. Those monthly phone calls from his mother were just so she could keep her nose in his life: a sense of controlment she loved to hold over him. 

"I honestly don't know why I haven't cut ties with them yet," Akaashi laughed bitterly. 

"Me too," Kenma said softly. "If you've overcome everything else that was holding you back, then what's stopping you now?" 

Akaashi untangled his hands, placing them upon his knees instead as he looked Kenma directly in the eyes.

"If they're the only thing stopping you from being happy, _truly happy,_ then do what has to be done." 

Akaashi swallowed, weakly nodding his head; "You're right," then again more determinedly, "Even if it means cutting them off, I'll do anything if it means I can be with Bokuto." 

"I know you would, that's why I came over here to give you a little push in the right direction." 

Akaashi chuckled, "thank you," then more quietly; "thank you for having faith in me." 

Kenma averted his eyes from Akaashi's, not knowing what to say. 

"Well now you need to tell Bokuto everything you told me." 

"I know. I'm just so scared. What if he doesn't want me anymore, what if I missed my chance? What if—" 

"—Akaashi, _stop._ You haven't missed your chance, you just missed an opportunity. That's why you've got another one, one you can't mess up this time." 

Akaashi stopped his worries from spilling out any further, he had to for his plan to tell Bokuto everything successfully. 

"I'm not going to mess this up. I'm not going to run away this time." 

Kenma hummed, "So when are you planning on telling him?" 

"Tomorrow," Akaashi replied. 

"I'm going to tell Bokuto-san tomorrow." 

He took a shuddering breath.

Tomorrow, he would go into work. Tomorrow, he would go into work and tell the man he loves why he ran away that night. 

Tomorrow, he would tell Bokuto the one promise he told himself he'd never break. 

Tomorrow, would be the day that would change his life. 

"Well technically it's today." 

Akaashi sighed, albeit smiling at the smaller man. "I guess you're right. Today then, I'll tell him today." 

_Just don't run away this time._

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi hiiii! long time so see huh? *sighs* where do I start. 
> 
> um, yeah. I didn't think this chapter would take this long getting uploaded but it happened i guess. i just wanted to say im so so sorry for keeping everyone waiting. if you left a comment on the previous chapters, even some of the very first ones for new readers, just know ive seen and read every single one of them. Im genuinely so so grateful for every single one of your comments, thats honestly what keeps me going whilst writing this fic. I usually respond to everyone, but lately i just havent been able to. my mental health hasnt been that great, and also my hamster also passed away during me writing this chapter. since then everything has just gone down hill. 
> 
> but im back, and i promise i will try being more consistent again. i also have a science exam i have to study for so sorry if the next update takes a little longer than it should. im just asking please don't lose hope, i am and i will finish this fic. ive put so much hard work into planning it all that i want to and have to finish it all for you. the response ive got so far for it, was more than i ever expected it would ever get, so thank you. 
> 
> also, you may have noticed the fic is ending at 20 chapters instead of 19,,, ;) well thats because this chapter got split in half, chap 18 was supposed to be in this chapter but i felt as though it was getting too long and dragging on, plus chap 18 makes sense if it was a single chapter so!! yayaya
> 
> anyways, i hope you all had an amazing christmas, youre all keeping well and safe and staying hydrated, and if you ever want someone to talk to, im always open to dms on twitter, since i spend my life living there whoops. so come say hi or shout at me there, @ LilacBonbon
> 
> love you all, Bon <3


	18. Hold On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what you have all been waiting for ;) 
> 
> ...
> 
> I hope...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi hiii!! i'm so sorry this took me a whole month and half to update, I guess I just have been thrown through a loophole with the uk going into another full on lockdown...which honestly i'm happy about if it means we can all get our lives back to normal sooner and people safer]
> 
> it was just everything that comes with online school and classes and also i had to cover my coworkers shifts where i work since he caught covid so i honestly haven't had the time or have just been unmotivated :( 
> 
> but!! my collegue came back last week and this week i had a sudden burst of motivation after catching up on some on my school work so i finished the rest of this chapter!! I started writing the second half of this at 10pm and it is now 00:09am as i write this ksjkljdklsj
> 
> I hope you enjoy!! <3

_So please could I be selfish with your body?  
'Cause I don't think I could share you with nobody_

_Oh, when I have you  
I'm gonna brand you with my lips  
And all of the world will know that you're mine now  
We'll never lose faith  
'Cause we'll never forget this taste  
My love has the power to keep you tied down_

_~ Jaymes Young, Tied Down._  


###### 

_Wednesday, June 3rd…_

When Akaashi had arrived at Fukurodani office that morning, the first thing he had expected when he turned up was to see Bokuto’s office occupied, with the large owl-like man situated at his desk, grumbling about how many emails he had to get through and how much he hated doing them as Akaashi handed over his latte and cookies. 

What he had not expected however, was for Bokuto’s office to be as silent as a mouse when he braced himself to walk through the double doors. 

Seriously, what had he been expecting? To just walk through the doors and expect Bokuto to be standing there as though nothing happened? Even after knowing Bokuto’s past, Akaashi felt disappointed in himself to think he could walk through those double glass doors and place his coffee and cookies down like it was just a normal day at the office. 

Akaashi internally sighed, going back to his desk and sitting down. He tried to not pay attention to the worried, concerned, confused, and even slightly disappointed faces of Konoha and the rest of his coworkers. 

Akaashi’s head dropped to his desk; he didn’t want to face anyone. He didn’t want them to look at him.

He wished he could rewind twenty four hours, maybe even longer. If it meant he could see Bokuto’s face with that sunshine grin of his, he wouldn’t ask for much more. If it meant he could change the events of last night, yesterday; he would have come clean to Bokuto right then and there. 

But Akaashi was a coward. He made the biggest mistake of his life walking out, only for Kenma to come and talk some sense into him. Akaashi wondered how much longer it would take before his friends gave up on him. 

_But no._

Akaashi didn’t ruin his only chance: he just lost an opportunity. 

Kenma was right. And Akaashi was going to make this work, once and for all. 

He just needed a second opportunity.

###### 

Akaashi looked at the computer screen, eyes flicking to the time in the bottom right hand corner; 

8:18 PM. 

Akaashi sat up, rubbing his eyes as he stretched and looked around the empty office. Konoha had woken him up at 5:30 to let him know it was now closing time, but Akaashi insisted he wanted to stay a little longer to finish the work he slept on, Konoha deciding to work a little overtime to prepare for an upcoming photoshoot and last minute interview that an organisation decided they actually did want him for. 

So when Konoha handed the keys to the office over for Akaashi to lock up, he blessed the gods above for making Konoha believe what he hoped was not a blatantly obvious lie. Except, he forgot that Konoha deserved more credit than you could give him; “Don’t stay up too long, okay Akaashi?” he said as he made his way to the exit. 

Except it didn’t stop there. “Akaashi,” Konoha said in a slightly anxious, more so worried tone. “I don’t think he’s coming in tonight...maybe for a while,” Konoha looked down at his feet, hand holding onto the doorframe he was just about to leave through. “Make sure you rest up properly, goodnight Akaashi.” 

The sound of the door shutting was the only thing Akaashi could hear before he placed his head down onto the smooth polished glass of his desk for the third time that day. 

It wasn't as if he was going to get any of the work done.

____________________________

The next time Akaashi woke up, it was just past 10pm. Akaashi didn’t know what he was expecting or hoping; but every ounce of confidence he had from when Kenma left to the afternoon of today, had completely shattered into a million tiny little pieces.

Standing up, Akaashi figured it was best if he just packed up and left for the night. It was late and he was tired and upset and miserable and just _so fed up._

He couldn’t help but blame himself; especially when at the root of it all, it was all his fault. 

He reached out for his jacket, pulling it over and on his shoulders, then bending down to pick up his backpack that he had already packed his laptop in a few hours prior. 

Akaashi took one more longing glance out of the window opposite him, looking at all of Tokyo’s dazzling lights before turning around to finally make his way out of the office for his bed that night. 

When he turned around, he was met with a pair of golden eyes staring back at him. 

Akaashi suddenly felt himself freeze. 

“Bokuto-san,” he breathed out shakily. 

Bokuto took one glance at him before resuming his tracks, walking forward and brushing past the assistant as he headed for his own office. 

Akaashi didn’t even turn around to look at him, he couldn’t. Not when Bokuto just looked at him like _that,_ with no ounce of recognition and ignoring him. 

He felt the tears well and his fists clenched at his sides. 

Akaashi whipped his head around, he was not going to run away again. He marched towards the office where Bokuto was standing over his desk, collecting the work he missed for the past two days. “Bokuto-san, we need to talk.” 

Akaashi didn't get a reply. Instead he was met with a street lit room, Bokuto’s broad back hunched over his desk, shirt straining across his muscles as he piled papers and grabbed his laptop he left there the previous week. 

Not that Akaashi should be having such thoughts about the way the fabric strained in certain places, not when he was trying to talk to Bokuto to tell him his lifelong secret after possibly ruining the best relationship he had ever built in his life. Only to be met with no response and turned back. 

Akaashi felt anger boil in his blood. He finally felt everything he ever stood by snap.

He stormed up to where Bokuto was standing, slamming both hands onto the desk with such force it echoed throughout the room and made his hands sting. “So what, you’re just going to ignore me now?” 

He wasn’t prepared for the way Bokuto turned to face him head on in an instant. Akaashi stepped back, afraid of the hurt and rage that was shining through the model's amber eyes, deep crease between eyebrows. 

“Don’t.” Bokuto seethed. “Don’t you dare question me after you walked out on me last night. After everything I told you?!”

Akaashi felt himself flinch. He had never heard Bokuto speak in the way he was now. And he knew for absolute certain he _never_ wanted to hear that tone in his life ever again. 

Akaashi took a deep breath, voice shaking, “I walked out on you because I was afraid!” 

Bokuto took one step toward the assistant, piercing gaze never leaving Akaashi’s own. “And you think I wasn’t?! After I said how I truly felt about you?” Bokuto’s own voice was now also shaking. “I confessed to you and all you could do was say ‘I’m sorry, we can’t’ and then _leave?!”_

Akaashi could sense how hysterical Bokuto was now getting. He would understand if he was also in the same position as him. But he wasn’t. Because Akaashi was Akaashi, and he had his own reasons for acting the way he did; even if he could have gone about it differently than he should have. But it was now up to the both of them to make things right, if only Bokuto would hear him out. 

“Bokuto, please just hear me out, _I beg you.”_ Akaashi was slightly reassured when he saw the model's eyes flicker with remorse at the way he was begging him to just listen. 

Bokuto finally broke eye contact, instead looking down at where their shoes were firmly planted to the floor. Akaashi could almost feel him giving up. 

There was also a sense of desperation within his own words, said slowly but firmly; 

“Okay, you better explain yourself fully then,” Bokuto said, looking back up to meet ocean eyes dead on. 

Akaashi gulped. He was thankful that he was given another chance. He couldn’t mess it up this time around. 

“I really did mean it,” Akaashi whispered into the thickness of the office. 

“Mean what?” 

“That I’m in love with you.” 

Bokuto’s eyes went wide before refocusing on the situation before him. “Then why did you walk out if you feel the same way?” his voice was hoarse. 

“Because,” Akaashi said, stepping forward one place to meet Bokuto halfway from earlier. “I was afraid.” Akaashi didn’t know what else he could say except the truth, even if it was going to take a while for Bokuto to listen and understand. 

“Remember that day back in the coffee shop? When I tripped up on my words and told you I wasn’t gay in that whole Oikawa situation? Well, I lied. And i’m pretty sure Kuroo and Kenma had it out for me from the start when it came to you,” Akaashi gave out a slight chuckle. 

He looked up to see Bokuto’s reaction, and all he saw was wide eyes and bewilderment etched onto his features. “What do you mean…?” 

Akaashi smiled somewhat bittersweetly, “I’m saying,” he took one more step closer to the model, “that i’ve liked you ever since I first laid my eyes on you Bokuto-san. It didn’t take that much more for me to fall in love with you.” 

Bokuto now stood frozen still, shocked at what the man before him was saying. “Please say you mean it Akaashi. Please don’t say this if you’re going to end up walking out again.” 

Akaashi was hurt at Bokuto’s word and felt pain flutter in his chest at the way Bokuto was staring at him. He needed to make sure that Bokuto fully knew he meant it. 

“I mean every single word I’m saying. I’ve said it before, but I broke that promise, so I’ll make it again. I’m never going to leave you Bokuto-san. I meant it all those nights ago in your apartment and I mean it now. I walked out last night, not because of you, but because of me. I left because I was scared and didn’t know what to do.” 

Bokuto gently cut through Akaashi’s words, trying to get him to explain the full story. “Why were you afraid? You know that if you ever need help, I’m always going to be here for you too.” Bokuto stumbled on his words a little; “O-only if you want me to be, that is.” 

Akaashi couldn’t help but chuckle at the adorable sight before him of how quickly Bokuto got flustered in the situation they were in. He smiled fondly. “Of course I want you to be Bokuto-san. But first, is it okay if you listen to my story? You deserve a full explanation of why I acted the way I did, especially after treating you so awfully,” Akaashi quietened down as he finished his sentence, suddenly fully aware of now about to tell Bokuto of the promise he made his parents and everything in general. 

Bokuto could sense the worry radiating off of his assistant, and unsurely reached out to take one of his hands in his own. Bokuto was still amazed at how Akaashi’s hands were bigger than his. 

Akaashi swallowed nervously. 

“I’ll stay here all night if I have to, i’m here to listen to what you have to say, Kaashi. Especially since I know you wouldn’t have done what you did if you didn’t have a good reason for it. You’re not that type of person,” Bokuto spoke. 

Akaashi didn’t know what to say except just nod as Bokuto gently dragged him over to his desk, both of them planting themselves on it so he could sit and listen to what Akaashi had to say. When Bokuto turned to face him from where they were sitting, Akaashi knew that was his cue to start telling. 

And so he did.

____________________

Akaashi took a deep breath, stunned that everything he had ever kept inside himself had just been told to the one person he thought could _never_ know, let alone anyone else. “And that’s why I was acting weird at the barbeque, because I knew Oikawa had found out my secret. Then at the award ceremony I panicked so I told him everything afterwards in that room,” Akaashi looked up to where Bokuto was sitting, still having not spoken a word.

Akaashi thought that maybe he was still processing so much in one hit. He couldn’t blame him after everything. 

“Akaashi…” Bokuto breathed, “why didn’t you tell me all of this beforehand? Wait, I understand why because you were scared of your parents, but you know I would have been there to help you. We all would have; we all still are.”

Akaashi smiled at Bokuto’s words. “Because before I cared about what my parents thought. I cared about what power they hold over me, what would happen if they found out any more than they already knew from all those years ago.” 

Bokuto was still staring at him more intently than ever. 

“But I don’t anymore. I told Oikawa on my own accord as I felt as though I couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer...especially when my feelings for you were growing stronger. Then last night Kenma saved me by forcing it out of me, which honestly, gave me the extra push I needed.”

“...So what now,” Bokuto whispered after he made sure his assistant had finished what he had to say. 

Akaashi breathed in heavily, unsure of what to say and also unsure of how to go about this situation now he had finished confessing everything. “What do you think?” he responded a little playfully. He felt as though the whole entire world had been lifted off of his shoulders. 

“I think,” Bokuto started to lean closer to Akaashi’s face, “that number one, fuck your parents.” Akaashi let out a little chuckle as Bokuto carried on; “And number two, I want to be with you, Akaashi. I want to reset last night, make it right with you too.”

Bokuto cupped Akaashi’s face with both of his hands, making him look straight into his eyes; “So Akaashi, what do you say? Will you let me love you?” Bokuto smiled ever so softly.

Akaashi suddenly felt overwhelmed with his emotions. He had never felt happier than he did in this moment. 

“Yes,” Akaashi gasped, slightly breathless and starry eyed; “I want to be with you Bokuto-san,” he said as he leaned forward to meet Bokuto halfway, noses bumping together sweetly. 

“I’m glad,” Bokuto leaned in, pressing his lips against Akaashi’s, moving them against his soft bitten lips gently. 

When he pulled away, Akaashi wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him forward to press their foreheads together. “I love you,” Akaashi murmured into the dark between them. 

“I love you too.” 

Akaashi moved forward to crash his lips upon Bokuto’s once again, this time not breaking the seal between them as soon. He moved his lips against the model's softer ones, nipping at the bottom one to try and get Bokuto to open up for him. His mouth parted, and Akaashi took that as his chance to slide their tongues together.

As soon as Akaashi did this, Bokuto moved to stand up, grabbing Akaashi by his waist from where he was sitting and pulling him upwards, which caused Akaashi to jump up and wrap his legs around his slim waist. 

Bokuto walked forwards, all whilst keeping his grip tight on the assistant in his arms, not once breaking the connection between their mouths. Akaashi’s back hit the wall, causing him to let out a yelp in surprise, but shut up due to Bokuto mouthing at his jaw, a sigh escaping instead. 

Akaashi’s face was heating up quicker and quicker the more Bokuto paid attention to his neck, nipping and sucking at just the right spots to make him quiver in his hold. 

Akaashi began to lose his patience very quickly. 

“Bokuto,” Akaashi moaned, bucking his hips up to get some friction from where he was pressed against his office wall.

Bokuto sucked harder at the spot just below his ear, groaning as he rocked his hips back into Akaashi, “Yes?” Bokuto stopped his ministrations, moving to look Akaashi dead in his eyes.  
Bokuto’s face was also beet red, and he was gasping from the lack of air between kisses and biting and doing anything he could to make the heat pool lower in Akaashi’s stomach. 

“I-I think we should go back to my place,” Akaashi bit on his lower lip to try and muffle his moan as Bokuto kept grinding his hips forward, the fabric from their slacks doing little to hide their excitement. 

Bokuto paused all motion then, unsure if he had heard the obsidian haired man correctly; “Are you sure?” Suddenly Bokuto felt nervousness rush over him from what Akaashi was implying. 

“Yes Bokuto-san, i’m absolutely sure.” 

But he also felt thrilled. 

Bokuto leaned his head softly against Akaashi’s own one, liking the gesture very much. “I just wanted to make sure you are ready,” he placed a sweet peck on his red nose. 

“Of course I'm ready, I want you Bokuto.” 

In an instant, the fire was back in Bokuto’s eyes again, flickering like a wildfire out of control, untameable. 

Akaashi felt himself grow tighter from just that look in his eyes. It made him anticipate what he was in for, especially when Bokuto was looking at him as though he was his prey. 

“I’ll call my driver, there’s no way we’re getting a train,” Bokuto said, rushing to grab his phone from his desk in excitement. 

Akasashi let out a lighthearted laugh as he was gently put back down, “we’ll get back to mine quicker in your car anyway.” 

Bokuto hummed, deciding to send a text instead, “And plus, that means we get to make out in the back,” he model said, adding a wink for good measure. 

Akaashi just stood there, staring at him in his stereotypical unamused face. 

“Awh come on! That was so sexy of me,” Bokuto pouted. 

Akaashi could no longer keep his facade, laughing loudly at the sight of Bokuto’s absolutely adorable pout. It was amazing how this man’s attitude could switch just like that. 

Bokuto’s phone pinged, letting them know the car was already waiting for them downstairs. 

Bokuto grabbed Akaashi’s hand, “Come on, let’s go!” he said with a whoop, also quickly grabbing Akaashi’s stuff from his desk on the way out. 

Safe to say, there was a lot of making out in the back of car seats.

###### 

Akaashi moaned loudly from where he was positioned on the bed, Bokuto hovering over him, intently staring at his face for any change in expressions to let him know how he was doing. 

They had arrived at Akaashi’s apartment fifteen minutes ago, and now he was below the model, a quivering and panting mess, both of them having stripped down completely. 

“Akaashi, you have to tell me how you feel,” Bokuto murmured into his ear, gently nibbling at his lobe. He slipped another finger into Akaashi’s entrance, causing the assistant to moan loudly, bucking his hips up to try and get more friction than what Bokuto was giving him. 

“It feels s-so good,” Akaashi panted. “I think i’m ready, you’ve been doing this long enough,” Akaashi whined, trying to roll his hips upwards to the man above him, who was still pumping his fingers in and out of him.

“P-please Koutarou,” Akaashi begged, tears forming at the edge of his eyes from this foreign but pleasant feeling Bokuto was giving him. “Want more, want you,” he whimpered. 

Bokuto’s eyes went wide as he heard Akaashi’s words spill out from his mouth. Not only had his assistant called him by his _given name,_ but also was begging to have him inside already. If Akaashi carried on the way he was, Bokuto wasn’t sure if he could last any longer. 

“Shhh okay okay, I just wanted to make it as least painful for you as possible,” Bokuto whispered sweetly, causing Akaashi to go ever redder than he already was. 

“I’m already stretched out enough, it’s okay, I’ll be fine I promise,” Akaashi muttered sheepishly. “Plus, I have you looking after me, so I’m confident.” Akaashi finished off more strongly. 

Bokuto stared at the man below him in awe, wondering if what was happening right now was even real. He was sure he was living in a fever dream. Because how on earth did he get a person as beautiful as Akaashi? 

“This is real Bokuto,” Akaashi let out a cute little laugh. 

“Huh?!” Bokuto fumbled, not realising he had in fact said his words _out loud._ He quickly shook his head to dissipate his thoughts, especially when he had better things to be doing. “I really mean it though, ‘Kaashi. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Bokuto said as he slowly but carefully entered himself inside of Akaashi’s heat, hands pressing into Akaashi’s hips. 

_Gods,_ he was so so _tight._

Bokuto felt his head spin from all the pleasure, and hearing Akaashi’s cries from beneath him as he finally bottomed out didn’t do anything to help his throbbing and aching. 

Akaashi threw his arm across his face, trying to hide his embarrassing blissed out expression from him. 

“Are you okay?” Bokuto removed the arm from across his face, leaning down to give a sweet kiss to Akaashi’s lips, swollen from when they had been around Bokuto’s own length just moments before he got Akaashi on his back. 

“I’m fine, it feels weird but it’s good,” Akaashi breathed out. “Y-You can move now.” 

As soon as Bokuto moved his hips back, only to thrust them forwards and back into Akaashi, Akaashi let out his loudest moan yet. “Bokuto!” Akaashi grabbed onto his forearms for purchase to keep him from moving any farther up the bed. 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto growled, “You feel so _good.”_

Bokuto groaned as he kept up his pace, rocking into Akaashi, slowing down at some points only to speed up and thrust a little harder inside him. 

and it was driving Akaashi _insane._

“B-Bokuto!” Akaashi cried out, Bokuto having found that spot inside of the assistant that made him see stars. 

“No,” Bokuto grunted, pulling out all the way, removing himself from Akaashi. “What do you call me?” 

Akaashi whimpered from the loss of Bokuto inside him, practically on the verge of tears from nearly finishing leaving him. 

“Koutarou!” Akaashi cried out louder as Bokuto slammed his length back inside of him, happy with his answer.

He leaned down as he slowed his pace once again, connecting his lips to Akaashi’s in a wet mess as their tongues slid against one another, teeth biting down on each other’s lips, moans swallowed in between. 

“Keiji,” Bokuto panted, “I’m not g-gonna last any longer.”  
Akaashi shivered from Bokuto hitting against his sweet spot with every single thrust, causing his legs to shake from where they were connected around Bokuto’s hips. “M-Me too,” Akaashi whimpered. 

Bokuto removed his grip from Akaashi’s hips, instead coming to gently lock them with Akaashi’s own hands either side of his head. 

He leaned down again, this time the two of them sharing a loving kiss in contrast to what it was seconds ago. 

“I love you so much Keiji,” Bokuto moaned as he thrusted deep, before finishing inside of Akaashi. 

As soon as Akaashi felt Bokuto release inside of him, Akaashi came as well, quivering beneath Bokuto as he gently pulled out and rolling onto his side, encasing Akaashi in his arms in a loving embrace. 

“I love you too, Koutarou,” Akaashi whispered into the darkness of his bedroom as Bokuto nuzzled against his hair.

And if teardrops of happiness and relief left their eyes, only Bokuto and Akaashi would hold onto that moment of pure joy between them in the city lit room for the rest of their lives. 

“Hey ‘Kaashi?” Bokuto mumbled quietly.

“Yes Bokuto-san?” 

“I’m going to take you on so many dates. I’m going to treat you so well and i’m going to be the best boyfriend _ever.”_

Akaashi laughed as he removed his head from where it was buried against Bokuto’s chest. His _boyfriend’s_ chest.

“I would love that very much. And I will also be the best back.” 

Bokuto chuckled as he hugged Akaashi closer, softly kissing the top of his forehead as both their eyes fluttered contently shut. 

Nothing felt wrong to Akaashi anymore. He didn't care. 

This time, he wasn't going to run away. 

He was just going to hold on to Bokuto forever, and hope that Bokuto would never let him go.

###### 

_To be continued in the next chapter..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi: i lied. i'm gay. 
> 
> Bokuto: YEAH NO KIDDING- 
> 
> Me as I wrote that scene: *spits out drink in laughter* 
> 
> AHHHH CHAPTER 18 DONE,, I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT. i know it has been the slowest of slow burns but hey, we got there in the end!! i cannot believe we are almost at the end. that's insane, I started writing this fic last year april at the beginning of the first lockdown since my bestie said i should, and it would give me something to do. nearly one year later and it's nearly finished and we're in a second lockdown jwdjwdw
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, i cannot write smut for the LIFE of me so kudos if you made it this far out alive. 
> 
> i hope you are all safe and well wherever you are in the world <3 
> 
> ps: i recently discovered a new kpop band called TXT and I'M LITERALLY OBSSESSED IVE ONLY KNOWN THEM FOR TWO WEEKS BUT IF ANYONE- okay i'll shut up now 🥺😔
> 
> much love, Bon 💜

**Author's Note:**

> Anndddd there we go! My first ever chapter completed, I really hoped you enjoyed it as much as I love planning and writing it all!
> 
> like I said, I'm really excited for where this story is heading, so I hope it lives up to my expectations, as well as your own!
> 
> Hopefully i'll have one chapter out weekly, so maybe every Friday!
> 
> I would appreciate kudos and your opinions! Until next time, 
> 
> \- Bon <3


End file.
